Dewdrops
by Jessiy Landroz
Summary: The colors of the sky show the brightest through the smiles of children. Progressing.
1. Chapter 1

Story originally inspired and based after Cynlee's "Misconceptions." It may borrow some elements from that story, but it may not directly quote it. This story is dedicated to Cynlee; need I say more? You go girl! XD

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Chapter One:

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It was an average day in the turtles' lives, or that was what two of them had thought when they woke up that crispy someday morning.

It had been about a week since Leonardo had come back home, from his pilgrimage when it had ended, after his journey to Japan to meet the one their father had called the Ancient One.

The family rejoiced at the final family reunion, though bits and pieces of uncertainties and apprehension still remained.

Mostly it was about the blue masked turtles spiritual healing, and if he had indeed come back to whom they knew him to be.

Donatello was glad Leo was back. He had missed his level headed and tactful brother dearly, and was very grateful to know the turtle displayed none of the brash, rash and angry behavior from merely a few months ago, it was a change he very much appreciated.

Raphael and Michelangelo were glad their blue-clad brother had come back as well, though Raphael was still at edge and unsure if the problem had been honestly dealt with, or was merely swept under the rug.

However, he did not mull over it for today he and Michelangelo, along with Leonardo and Donatello, had to sneak back towards the destructed Y'lantian lair, to retrieve what little had survived of their belongings, after Karai's massive destructive forces, and then move said items to the abandoned pumping station that had become their new home.

Much rubble had been left in the battle's wake, and one visit would not be enough to retrieve all that had survived. So they merely had to go back and pick up some items every now and then of closer junkyard-like recourses that are closer to home.

"Man, it's true when they say good things don't last for long." The orange masked turtle mumbled sadly, carefully he flipped a thin board-like slot of bluish grey plaster on the floor with his foot, and watched the small cloud of dirt rise as the debris rolled away, "How long had we lived here, again?" he turned to his brothers questioningly.

"About a year or so, I think." Donatello replied, he carried an intact wooden chair at hand.

It was slightly scratched from being knocked out of place, but otherwise it was in good useable condition, though it might need a support on one of its barely chipped legs to make sure it won't break when a certain heavy body sits on it.

'_Are you calling me fat?_' Raphael snarled angrily at his widely grinning little brother.

'_Of course not, I'm saying your butt's fat!_' Micheangelo replied.

The broken furniture and bruises each adorned afterwards lasted for a few hours, but the lumps on their heads were mainly the result of their father's cane, admonishing punishment for knocking over his tea set and spilling the beverage, while still hot, on his lap.

"I can't believe it's been that long, though. Everything just happened so fast." Donatello gave a small sigh as he glanced up at the ripped cables that hung around the ceiling, "And I was so happy and getting those last touches completed." He mumbled a little sourly at the destruction of so much effort gone to waste.

"Hopefully the station would suit you better, Donny. After all, it's much bigger, and you already got that internet cable installed." Raphael quirked a smile and then squatted down to pick up the huge box he had used to collect smaller items.

He picked it up careful as to not strain his spine from the massive weight, weighted and balanced it in his arms, before he then turned to the others, "Okay, I think this is the last of our haul for now." He was about to say something more when he blinked and frowned confusedly, before he glanced around then he turned to the two turtles before him, "Hey, where's Leo?"

"Over here." A voice echoed nearby, at the direction of Splinter's chamber. At the remains of the sliding paper door, the turtle in blue stepped out with a tray-like box, whereas Bonsai trees were sorted to fit the small space and not fall during the ride home, "I just had to get these for sensei." He said with a soft smile as he advanced closer towards them.

Although none said anything, they had all missed that tender brotherly smile. It gave them a sense of safety and familiarity, a piece of their brother they had missed for so long, and they cherished it whenever it visibly showed.

"Okay, are we good to go?" Raph grumped, disturbing the peaceful moment with a feint huff, shifted the box again in his arms and already headed out towards the newly restored Sewer Slider.

It had taken Donatello approximately three weeks to get back together, and another two weeks to have it working properly. Although it had not been damaged all that badly, it was more the distractions he kept getting from his family, especially the easily bored orange masked one who took a toll on his nerves.

From needing to adjust the new lair to accommodate to their needs, and trying to repair whatever was broken from their salvaged loot, it practically ate up his time and he could barely catch up to most of those duties, without Michelangelo riling up the angry beast and smash even more things up, before he would crash in bed or even on his work bench from sheer exhaustion.

Don was still upset and frustrated about the slow repairs were coming, for he knew there was still so much to do, and refusing to let April pitch in with money to pay for what he could not fix was something he strongly felt about. Casey's aid in fixing some vehicles was welcomed, but offering help with technical equipment or offering money was not.

Casey had good intentions, he just had no skills with delicate technical equipment.

Also, the itch on his thigh from the giant bug attack a few weeks ago was driving him up the wall. Not to mention that Raph kept slapping his hand every time he started scratching it. He appreciated his brothers concern, as rough as it might seem, but he couldn't help it, and he wouldn't allow himself to rest, not when there were so many gaps in their walls that needed patching; figuratively speaking.

"So is this the last load?" Mike asked one last time. They had been doing laps from the pumping station to the demolished Y'lantian lair for the past week, and every time they came late at night to collect what little bits salvageable here and there to take home. "I mean, is there anything left, or this gonna be the last time we come here?"

"I believe this will be the last time, for a while at least." Don explained with a slight smile, "Maybe until we remember something and come back for it. But for now, no there is nothing left, this is the last patch."

"Good, cause I'm tired of coming and going back and forth." Mike confessed, squatted down and picked up the box he had gathered his treasures in, or whatever remained from his comic book and action figure collection.

He had seriously thought he had lost it all during the Foot's sudden attack, but thankfully the roof had fallen over the bookcase he had sorted them in, preventing the hail of bullets from Karai's giant battle-suit bots from tearing the wads of paper into confetti.

'_They don't call them Shred-bots for nothing, Sherlock._' Raphael had once remarked.

He was glad the wooden frame fell face first onto the floor, protecting the comics under its wooden body. Mike gained a few splinters from the broken wood while in haste to rescue his babies; he had to shove a few planks aside oblivious to the splinters that littered the wooden frame. But they weren't that bad, but having Raph pin him down so Don could pluck out the splinters from his twitchy fingers was what truly irritated him.

"So, you got what you need, Donny?" Raphael questioned as he returned.

He picked up another box; it was mostly full of the smaller and more fragile items from their kitchenware. Utensils like glasses, china and pots that had survived, as well as an assortment of spoons and the kitchen clock and the like. Beakers from Don's lab, some glass bulbs of sorts Raphael couldn't identify, but he knew some pieces were items Don used in his microscope, so he knew they would need to be cleaned once they got the lair.

After all, the place was crawling with rats when they got here, Mikey ironically enough stepped on a gift on the floor last time they were here.

Nevertheless, where Raphael hauled the delicate glassware, Leo carried Splinter's Bonsai trees towards their vehicle, while Mike pretty much cradled his precious comics.

Donatello, however didn't carry more than his Bo staff and his so called magic bag, its strap over his shoulder. But that was more because his mother-hen-mode kin, had refused to let him carry anything heavy, just because he looked a little paler than usual that morning.

"I already got what I wanted from our last few trips, so there is nothing for me to take." He shrugged a shoulder in answer to Raphael's previous question, '_Not that you would have let me carry anything, anyway._' he grumped silently to himself, mildly annoyed.

"And besides, what was left isn't fixable even to me; they'll just be excess cargo. I already gathered the repair or spare parts available during the last few times we were here." He amended then glanced towards his workshop, or what remained of it, "And those that could be fixed are pretty much useless due to the fact that I got more efficient and reliable replacements now, so I frankly don't need them anymore."

"You sure?" Mike inquired again, "I mean, maybe you missed something, dude?"

"Yes, give your workshop one last look, Donny. We won't be coming here for a very long time." Leo suggested with a concerned look in his eyes, yet he held onto that gentle smile, "The Foot had been rather active the past few nights, so we need to make our trips back here limited. We wouldn't want them backtracking us to our new home, either."

"I know, that's why I did a quick scan and sweep over everything we gathered during the last few trips." Don replied with a confident smile, hiding how irritable he was inside. "No bugs or traces of tracking deceived anywhere, so we're safe." He assured with a grin, an effort to hide the scowl on his face. "But if it'll make you feel better, I'll just go check what's left of my workshop, anyway." he added with a slight nod and headed towards his workshop; breathing deep once he was out of view and wishing he had something to punch.

"Alright, but be quick about it, okay?" Raph grumped, already heaving the last of his delicate load towards their vehicle. Much of the kitchenware survived, so Raphael had had to haul about four boxes with assorted china, glass and lab equipment into the vehicle, and sorts them around in order not to smash them against each other if he decided to ride full speed ahead.

"Great! Then can we go home now? My legs hurt." Mike complained, already he continuously shifted his weight from one side to the other, having already disposed his box of comics in the vehicle and commenced helping Raph with the last box. "And it's almost dinner time, I'm starved!" he continued as he followed after the hothead, taking the passenger seat, "I wonder what's for dinner."

With a slight grin, Leo gave a negative shake as he placed the trey between two china boxes to keep them apart and pinned in place, before taking the seat behind the other stooges, "We'll go home as soon as Don is done scanning his spot, Mike; don't worry."

For a good fifteen minutes, Donatello searched through his old cabinets, drawers and various smashed machines he had installed and work on, during their stay within the now demolished lair. He had taken his take to breathe and mentally count in his mind to clear out the irritation of being babied by his brothers, so the silence alone in the graveyard of what was once his frivolous lab gave him a poignant feeling.

There were a few smashed floppy disks and cracked CD's, but nothing of value to him in the backup-files drawer, so he didn't pick them up. They were mostly backup copies of his hard drive, beta projects and test run results anyway; most were awfully outdated, too.

To Donatello, he was sure there was nothing worth of value, therefore did not put much of attention in his search, but while moving some debris and shattered wood off and out of a drawer, he noticed a small sparkling object.

He blinked, and then frowned confusedly at the gleaming foreign object within his belongings. For one thing, he did not recall leaving anything shiny behind, and he didn't remember seeing it when he had taken his belongings during their previous couple of visits; nor possessing anything that might attract Mike to his belongings, anyway.

Curious to the identity of this shiny object, and wondering how he could have missed it earlier, then decided he needed to see what it was to figure out the answer. He shoved the debris aside and reached in for it in its darkened little corner. It was tucked inside a partly crushed metallic cabinet drawer, so he had to maneuver his thick fingers into the small pocket, while careful not to graze his hand against any of the sharp and pointy sides within the confined space.

After a little effort, accidentally stubbing his palm against a pointy metal edge, and ignoring the sound of his siblings calling for him to hurry up, he felt his fingers brush against the cool, smooth surface of something that almost felt like a marble, except it wasn't, that much he know upon touching it. Braving on, he withdrew his hand and gripped the messed up drawer, shaking it a bit to tug the drawer from its pocket, hopefully enough to loosen the item from it's sheath.

With success he tilted the whole cabinet to let the object role out like a marble in a pinball machine. To his surprise, once the drawer creaked out of its place with a few good inches, he placed his hand at the small opening to receive the little object, only to be greeted by the sight of a small sized crystal popping into his hand and coming fully into view.

With a blank stare, Donatello examined it.

It was about an inch or so long, about half an inch thick and a little bit dully-sharpened on both ends, but not enough to cut. It was small but bright and with a pinkish-red glow, but a white and nearly transparent hue in the center. It reminded him so much of that small, similar looking crystal his dear friend Kirby used on his pencil, but Don could not recall seeing it in his drawer before, so how did it get there?

"Don, we're leaving!" Raph's agitated voice called aloud from beyond the lair's exit, "Move yer shell or we're leaving you behind!" he shouted.

There was then a muffled-murmured conversation the purple masked turtle could not catch, a laugh and then a loud smack soon followed by a pained yelp, so he smiled, no longer needing an explanation to what irritated the hothead so suddenly.

A moment later, the Sewer Slider's engine roared with life, as if beckoning to hurry or Raphael will carry out his vow; its bright lights shone through the sewer tunnels a fair distance away.

Fingering the crystal in his hand, Donatello gave a grim smile.

He recalled Kirby fondly, treasuring their unusual adventure together before his friend was trapped in an imaginary world, a world of his own creation, unable to come back to the real world. Although he did not remember possessing this crystal, or Kirby passing it down to him with the letter he had sent through the portal, he decided to take it along for the sake of something to remember his friend by.

Who knew? It might come in handy if it worked like Kirby's magic crystal, right?

He didn't really believe in magic, but seeing is believing, and he was inclined to believe this tiny shiny rock could also be a magic crystal as well; but only time to test it out could tell, really.

But that is an experiment for another time.

After pocketing the crystal in his bag, Donatello gave their demolished home one last look, before he exit the lair and boarded the Sewer Slider, paying a blind eye to Michelangelo's hurt '_Raphie__ bro is picking on me!_' puppy face, and rejoined his brothers on the ride home.

There was much work to be done, but perhaps he'll take some time off today, he figured he deserved it.

After all, with the way Raphael looked sour as he and Leo fought over who will drive, he figured getting home for that matter might be open for debate for the time being.

Frankly, with Raphael's victory over the steering wheel, he wondered if he was in more of a risk getting smashed than the crate full of china right behind him.

He honestly wished to get back home in one piece.

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A/N: constructive critique is welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two:

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Tired, cranky, and perhaps a little sore due to his inability to sleep, Raphael tossed and turned in bed.

Grudgingly cursing his insomniac luck, he flung off the blanket and almost clumsily toppled out of his hammock, and shivered slightly as the cool tiled floor made contact with his feet. Grumbling, he decided a drink and then a long workout in the dojo ought to be enough to tire him out. If not, then a long run topside ought to do it.

Although, he didn't want to risk a dizzy spell from lack of sleep like the last time he went out.

He didn't want to admit it, but he scared the daylights out of himself that time. He hadn't even told Casey he was going out for a run since it was nearly dawn, and his brothers would have been up by the time he got back home, so he didn't want to brother informing them and headed out.

He had gone out a little past midnight, fought thugs and got more than a few bruises and a scratch here and there, but the insomnia started fading when the sun peeked from the horizon. Feeling a little fatigued, but restless in a not-so-sleepy fashion, he decided to go home and just roll in his hammock till sleep decided to bonk him one, he was just too tired to care.

Half way across the city of Manhattan to the park where his home was, he got a dizzy spell mid jump and barely latched onto a building's fire escape at the last moment.

He remembered it; he remembered it all too clearly.

Hanging upside down from that ledge for a good few minutes, to the point he could have sworn he felt blood leak from his nose; thankfully it was all in his head, he wasn't bleeding. He did manage to push himself upright, but then he spent a good while just sitting there dizzied and shivering, feeling sickly lightheaded and cold from the dizziness. He had to wait till he had warmed up a little with the glory of soothing morning sunlight, before he would dare move again.

The cool morning air only made his movements slack and grow exhausted all the quicker, but he persistently continued his way home; he had to get to his room before anyone realized he was missing.

He sure as Splinter's tail didn't want a lecture this early in the morning, even if he knew he deserved it.

When he made it home, he was glad no one was around to catch him sneaking in, while their father was in the kitchen making breakfast. He tossed himself in bed and was sowing logs for hours since.

Later he was told all three brothers tried to wake him no more than thirty minutes since he got home, unaware of his previous departure, but failed miserably to even rouse him.

He was much too fatigued to even acknowledge them there trying to shake him awake.

Shrugging off the unpleasant memory, mentally promising to try his earnest to never do something that stupid again, he trudged towards the dojo.

He didn't bother dressing up in his gear, no need to soak them with sweat, since he planned to take a shower afterwards anyway, so training naked felt suitable and less troublesome to do at this late hour.

Besides, it's not like there were any hot chicks watching, so what's the point?

Of course, that was his initiate thought when he exit his bedroom and stepped out of the ward, as he headed towards the center of the station's new dojo, he couldn't help but get a tingly feeling on the back of his neck; as if he had heckles standing from the sensation.

He couldn't explain it, but it was one of those 'something is about to happen,' moments, and he knew his gut-senses, when something feels like it's about to happen, then something is undoubtedly about to happen, it will only be a matter of time before whatever it is actually takes place.

Wary and a bit more alert, he glanced around his surroundings, but there was nothing out of place or suspiciously strange. He half wondered if he was just going paranoid, or hallucinating from lack of sleep.

Looking at his brothers rooms, he noted Donatello and Michelangelo's rooms were still lit. Donatello was probably absorbed into a late night project, while Michelangelo had probably fell asleep reading comics with the light on again. Leonardo, however, there was a faint light, so he was probably meditating in the soft glow of candlelight's.

Raphael looked around him one more time, unsure really of where this uneasy feeling was coming from. Unnerved, and blaming it on insomnia and paranoia, he shrugged the feeling off and headed to the dojo, dearly needing a distraction and a way to vent the extra energy with.

No more than four hours later of excessive, energy draining workout, flesh soaked with sweat after a relentless exercise, he guzzled a fair amount of water to quench his thirst, showered under the cascading waterfalls of hot soothing waters, and then with his mind fogged with the overpowering need to sleep, crashed in bed like a ton of bricks.

His snores were so loud, it _nearly_ scared his sleeping brothers awake.

**. o 0 o 0 o . **

Wriggling in the comfort of his hammock, sleep fading from his foggy mind and puffed, groggy eyes, Raphael frowned.

There was this- odd pressure on his chest. It wasn't unbearable, but it was a little restricting and he found it was a little hard to breathe, and disturbingly unusual.

He opened his blurry eyes, sleepy and still not fully awake.

He rubbed his eyes and brushed a hand over his chest, or attempted to, anyway. Because when he tried, his hand came in contact with a soft object, warm and tender. Startled and instantly jolted from his fading sleepy daze, he snorted and blinked at the object perched over his chest.

He half wondered if Klunk thought he was being friendly to take a nap on him again; he hated it when the cat did that without a warning.

But, after a moment he realized the creature perched on his chest, breathing against his snout, was not in any shape or form, a cat.

The first thing he saw were a pair of big sky blue eyes, almost as crystal blue as Mikey's, but there were far too huge to have belonged to his baby brother. The eyes were framed with blonde locks of hair draped over the rounded cheeks, or what he recognized as cheeks as the face then fully came into view; skin pale but with a hint of green with darker freckles.

He stared, wide eyed and stiff at the creature that perched on his chest.

And at that moment, he discovered there was a blue eyed, blonde haired little five year old turtle girl sitting on his chest.

"**_DONNEY!!!_**"

**. o 0 o 0 o . **

"What do you mean you don't know!?" the hotheaded turtle bellowed in a fit of baffled-beyond-reason rage, "You mean to tell me she just appeared right out of _nowhere_ and you have _no idea_, no theories or what have you where she even _came_ from?" he cried.

The brainy turtle was tired, cranky and with a splitting headache. Frankly, he had half a mind to punch Raph in the face and tell him to shut the hell up or curse a storm, but he knew it would not be a good idea, not at the moment.

"It's not like you've given me anything to work with, Raph." He grouched irritably, rubbing his temple to soothe the pounding against his skull, "All you ever said: There is a little turtle girl in my room, and where did she come from?" he parroted his brother's question, trying not to sound too sarcastic, fully aware the temperamental turtle would not appreciate it. "You probably have more clues about her identity than I do." He then huffed.

"Well, the fact is, brainiac, I _don't!_" the hothead shot back, then warily shot a look at the little girl cuddled into their father's arms. "I mean, she won't even talk to me! I don't even know her name!"

"Perhaps if you'd stop screaming like a banshee and control yourself, you wouldn't be scaring her out of her shell, bro." admonished the leader, now setting a tray with glasses of juice and trying to offer one to the little girl.

Michelangelo sulked when she refused the drink and latched fearfully into their father, refusing to let go.

He gingerly rubbed the little girl's shell, "Seriously, dude, take a chill pill! You're really scaring her." The youngest admonished, trying to be friendly to the little girl, but she was much too terrified at the hothead to even look at him.

Michelangelo, as he took in her appearance, thought she looked really cute.

She was a pudgy little girl, she wasn't really fat but not skinny either.

Her hair was pale blonde to the point of nearly looking greenish, and it was shoulder long and looked smooth and silky, while in truth it was a little flayed by the ends as if she had been playing with a hair dryer and ruined it. Her eyes, were like a pair of big blue orbs instead of pupils, brilliantly captivating and so expressive, fitting that dolled baby face too well. Her snout was small but her beak was a bit more triangular like a regular turtle than square like the rest of them, where her lips were a bit pouty.

Strangely enough, her shell was almost heart shaped, though it also looked like a raindrop that's upside down. The shell was more rounded on top and dipped like a teardrop at the bottom, so it pretty much carried the same description of both raindrop and heart shape.

She was like them regarding everything else; three fingers on each hand and two toes on each foot. Oddly enough, her shell was generally a muddled shade of murky dark green with a hint of sapphire blue, and where her plastron was dusty golden yellow like the rest of them, her skin was basic green but with a bit of lime yellow to it, otherwise her skin tone looked too much like Leonardo's.

Leonardo, while observing her appearance, would have sworn her skin tone looked like a picture on a piece of paper that got water splashed on it, and the colors somehow merged and smudged against each other. It was strange looking, but attractive in a wired kind of way.

"Perhaps, my sons, she merely needs to feel safe before trying to explain anything to us." Master Splinter began. Tenderly the old rat cuddled the child; she had been so terrified of the hotheaded turtle, she had buried her face in the rat's chest fur and refused to let go.

"Oh, that's insightful." Raphael muttered, but then noticed the displeased glare from his father, he rolled his eyes and coughed a bit, "Sorry, no disrespect meant, master Splinter." He apologized, and then glanced at the child, "I just find it really annoying when I wake up first thing in the morning to find a little midget on my chest, staring at me as if she were a cat waiting to be fed." He exclaimed.

"Well, she's obviously not hungry." Leonardo said, giving up trying to offer her the drink, and set the glass back on the tray. "I guess if she's not talking, we can just give her a temporary name?"

"Dewdrop!" Michelangelo suddenly chimed, rather more happily than usual.

Leonardo and Donatello blinked at their youngest; uneasily they then looked at each other, as if reflecting the question 'what is he up to?' to one another.

Raphael, however, sent him a wary questioning look. To be honest with himself, that name actually sounded… familiar?

Upon the startled and someone wary glances he received, Michelangelo flashed a big grin, "Aw c'mon guys! Look at her shell, her plump figure and baby face and tell me she doesn't look like a little fairy." He crossed his arms over his plastron, "Well, a fairy without wings, anyway." He shrugged casually and then smiled at the curled bundle snuggled into their father's lap, "You like that? Can we call you Dewdrop?"

At first she stared at him rather blankly, before a tiny, shy smile crossed her lips, and she smiled.

Michelangelo grinned even wider, "I'll take that as a yes." He chirped. "So it's settled. Your name is Dewdrop, but we'll just call you Dew for short, okay?" he cooed and patted her head.

She gave a little soundless giggle and relaxed, but remained cuddled into the elder rat's lap.

Master Splinter had gathered her into his arms earlier in order to comfort the whimpering child.

When she had startled Raphael and he had called for his brainy brother, his loud bellow terrified her to tears and she bolted right out of the room. It had taken Leo a good half hour to convince her to not hide behind the fridge in fear she might get electrocuted, but she refused to be near anyone but Splinter once they managed to get her out of the kitchen.

She latched onto his chest fur with her small hands, and had refused to let go ever since. The elder sage had found that it hurt when she'd tug, but being knowledgeable with how children need reassuring at such a fragile age, he withstood the aches and comforted her best he could.

After all, until they figured out where she came from, they won't be able to do much but take care of her, really.

Master Splinter found she was rather small, compared to his sons when they were her age. Where the boys stood a good two and a half to three feet tall when they were around five to seven years old, this little girl was just about two feet, if barely.

Her shell was rather large for her age, in fact. Splinter found that she was rather plump and her large shell should have made her movements restricted, yet she seemed to be able to dash like a little bolt of lightening just fine. Peculiar, but not uncanny; if Michelangelo could do it, then so could she. Just because she seemed well fed and with a big shell, didn't mean she was slow.

Michelangelo, being the sweet lovable friendly puppy that he is, soon gestured with his arms to her, offering a hug, or to at least get the little thing off his sensei's lap. His father must have been cramping after sitting with her for so long, he wanted to give his dad a break.

She hesitated at first, glanced at the others and then back at the orange masked turtle. Reluctantly, and somewhat shyly, she reached out for his hands and he grinned wide, beaming with a warm friendly aura. Slowly she let go of the elder rat's fur and allowed the strong older turtle to pick her up, cradling her in his arms and letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

She looked up at him, like a baby trying to identify their parent.

Michelangelo settled back on the sofa and cuddled her closer, nuzzling her head. "Man, we don't have to worry about you going hungry, that's for sure." He chuckled in a joshing manner, bounced her a bit on his knee, which earned a silent chuckle, then cuddled her, "So, can you talk?" he casually asked, nuzzling her head as she snuggled into him, burying her head under his chin.

To everyone's shock, she shook her head; no.

Leonardo furrowed a bit sadly, "Well there goes the part about getting answers." He softly murmured.

"Maybe she knows sign language?" the orange masked turtle offered, stroking her shell he let her press herself against his chest and cuddle a little more. "Or we can teach her?" he looked at the purple masked brother.

Donatello contemplated the thought, "She can obviously hear us and can understand what we're saying, but can't talk." He said, leaned back against the couch and watched his cheerful brother cuddle and hug the little girl, who seemed to relax and grow more comfortable in turn, "She's just mute, but not deaf, so I'm guessing there are many ways to explain this, but to narrow down the choices, she either had gone through a mental shock and is temporarily unable to speak, or she was just born this way." He shrugged.

Leonardo was about to ask something else, but then the expression on Raphael's face pulled his attention away from the conversation. Raphael looked rather- deeply distracted; too deeply distracted. Daydreaming would be putting it lightly. He knew that face, that look was always an omen of bad news to the leader, and whenever Raphael had that look, Leonardo knew something was amiss.

Raphael's eyes weren't focused on anything, he noticed, although he was generally looking at the direction of Mike and the little turtle girl. Master Splinter seemed to notice as well, but neither said anything.

"Raph?" Donatello spoke, now noticing the absent gaze as well, yet still unaware of the dreading expression. Raphael involuntarily flinched, blinked and then glanced at his brainy brother, "You okay? You just zoned out on us." He told, concerned.

Raphael stared at him, then at the girl, then at Michelangelo. A little knowing look sparked in his eyes at he gazed at his little brother, and a small irritated growl emit in the pit of his throat, "You went rummaging through my stuff, didn't you." He muttered, a statement not a question.

The youngest blinked, and a small wry grin tainted his otherwise cheery smile, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh I dunno, a sketch book, maybe?" the hothead glanced at the little girl peering back at him, "A couple of years old, stained with orange juice from when we were seven?" Raphael drawled, then swiftly looked at Mike with a dead stare, "Ring a bell?" he tried not to get too angry, not wanting to scare the kid, but he also knew he hit home when Mike's eyes widened a bit.

Mike stared, a small bead of sweat evidently blew his cover when it formed on the side of his temple, but he stubbornly smiled and tried to mask his anxiety, "Um, not getting it bro, sorry." He chuckled nervously and hugged the girl closer.

Raphael sneered, "I have no freakin' clue how you did it, Mikey! But this girl-" he jabbed a finger towards the girl, who flinched at the action of being pointed at, "-used to be a picture in a sketch book!" the hothead exclaimed.

"What?" Leonardo cried, astonished and utterly confused, "Raph? How is that even possible?" he grumped, thinking it was a bad joke.

Abruptly, before anyone could say anything else, Donatello jumped off his seat and dashed to his workshop. Startled and confused, Leonardo hurried after him thinking he had probably gotten into another sneezing fit, or worse, the urge to vomit.

Once at the lab, his fears put to ease, he saw Donatello merely rummaged feverishly through his own belonging, specifically his bag of tricks.

"Don, what are you doing?" the leader demanded, concerned and confused.

With a loud grunt and fists slamming the tabletop, Leo flinched as the glass beakers and equipment that were all there rattled at the impact. The leader had to tiptoe around the angry purple masked brother, who quickly ignored his questions to what he was looking for and headed back to the den, now marching angrily towards the dear-in-headlights looking orange masked brother.

"Fess up, Michelangelo, where is it?" Donatello barked, keeping his voice tamed as to not freak out the already teary eyed child.

"W- where's what?" Mikey stuttered, nervously hugging the girl closer, a nervous and sheepish smile stretched across his face.

"The crystal that was in my duffle bag; where is it?" Donatello demanded, hands balled into tight firsts.

When he received no immediate answer, as Mike was then too busy cooing the scared child in his arms, his expression softened a bit as he stared from his baby eyed brother to the terrified whimpering child in his arms. The olive green turtle sighed heavily, realizing he had lost his temper and probably made the situation worse. He palmed his face and apologized in barely a whisper, before looking back at his little brother once more.

"Please tell me you didn't use the crystal," he begged.

Michelangelo merely grinned sheepishly, "I'm- sorry Donny. I figured if Kirby could do it, then so could I." he pouted cutely.

"Who's Kirby?" came the doubled overprotective voices of Leo and Raph.

Donatello groaned, he had a lot of explaining to do…

His head hurt too much to want to even think about it, damn it!

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: constructive critique is welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

-----------------

"So she was _supposed_ to have hair?" Don looked at his short tempered brother with a meek smile, suppressing the urge to chuckle.

They were in Michelangelo's room sifting through a box he had salvaged from the old Y'Lantian lair.

Surprisingly enough, Donatello had found many of his and his brothers' missing notebooks and sketch pads there. He did not know why or how most of them had even had gotten there, considering how some of them were ages old, as old as their first lair in fact, but decided it would be a question best answered some other time. He and Raphael were sorting the items in the box to tell which were originally Mikey's, and which were theirs and had mysteriously found their way to their brothers stash.

The other occupant in the room huffed embarrassedly at the question, and kept himself occupied by flipping through the pages of an old stained sketch book. Its pale blue colored cover was muddled by clear water and strawberry juice stains, as pink spots adorned some of the pages, where others were practically glued to each other from the sticky sugar that was in-between. The wad of white paper inside that survived the sticky situation was left wrinkled and splotched by the moist; the liquid had somewhat dried and left darker and lighter spots all over the pages, ruining whatever artwork or text the book had contained.

"Look, I was only nine at the time and I've never seen a bald girl before, so it's not like I knew any better." Raphael then whined irritably, eyeing the sketch book in his hands, then fell quiet, distracted by his own thoughts.

When the olive green turtle saw his brother had zoned out again, he chuckled, "Yes, I understand; it would have been awkward to see a bald girl, anyway." he stared at the picture of the little turtle girl in his hand.

He had managed to find the book Mike had, at the time, decided to test the crystal with. It was placed on his bed, and their hyperactive brother had forgotten it there. Donatello had barely managed at the last second to rescue it from Klunk, who thought it made a nice scratch pad. The book had a leather cover but it was flaky and wrinkled from both age and overuse, the thing clearly saw better days.

But if Mike had the book on his bed, and had fallen asleep after unknowingly bringing Dew to life, then wouldn't that mean she was born in Mike's room, and then wondered out till she somehow got to Raph's room? If so, then how was it that Mike didn't wake up at her birth, or at least sense her there? Their youngest claimed Raphael cried for their brainy brother around six hours after he had gone to bed, so was it possible it took the crystal that long to turn Dew from a picture into a real being?

Was she even considered a being, or an alter fragment of nonexistent imagination? Like an imaginary friend, except she was seen and felt by everyone… he had no explanation, and it boggled him to the point of frustration.

"So she was supposed to be a cute blonde with blue eyes, and a year or so younger than the four of us." He then murmured, reading what he recognized as Raphael's handwriting, a scrawled profile of the girl messily written on the same page, text lost thanks to the page's withered condition. The wrinkles did not help him read what the text written said exactly, either.

"You really had horrible handwriting, you know that?" he then casually commented. "At least it's readable now,"

Raphael snorted, tossed the sketch pad he had into the pile in the box and picked up another, slowly skimming through the pages. "Rub it in why dont'cha." He growled, "Why else do you think sensei kept giving me extra calligraphy lessons, whenever Mike or Leo and I get in some sort of misfit? It's not my fault my handwriting was so unreadable back then; I was just a kid, damn it." He sourly grumbled, and then returned to sorting through the heap of books in the box before him, albeit roughly; he threw them in instead of placing them casually.

Don furrowed at the messy handwriting that scrawled besides the picture, half trying not to think about how he just ruined the temperamental turtle's mood, and how he might get bitten on the tail for it later.

Apparently, while looking at the picture, it was some sort of description of the little turtle girl's appearance and character, but he couldn't quite read much of what was written due to the water stains, smearing the ink with the colors that gave the artwork life. One thing he was sure of, if his brother's current handwriting started off as being this horribly messy, then it had impressively improved throughout the years; their father's tutoring had seriously improved it.

While looking at the scribbled picture of what they now knew as Dew, the purple masked turtle quirked a brow when he realized something, so he turned to face his brother with a teasing grin, though he would often know better than to jab the cranky beast, he was in a daring mood and wanted payback for all the babying he suffered the past few weeks.

"You know, I just noticed you have a thing for blondes." He grinned, though with a hint of a leer.

The hothead glanced to his cheeky brother and growled embarrassedly, "Well, yeah. I happen to _like_ blondes; probably just as much as you like redheads." He shot back with a warning and somewhat hinting tone, "Why? Ya got a problem with that?" he growled, cheeks darkening as a scowl drew his lips apart, enough to flash a pearl-white set of sharp teeth.

He shrugged a shoulder, "No." the purple clad turtle chirped indifferently, deliberately ignoring the hint regarding redheads, smothering another bemused chuckle as Raphael turned his attention away with intangible muttering under his breath.

After that, he paused for a moment to give his brother a moment to calm down, and distracted himself by studying the picture once again. After a moment he eyed the red clad turtle again through the corner of his eye, noticing how the hothead had grown quiet again rather quick. Raphael looked distracted, as if he suddenly remembered something, and it was so intense it completely took over his mind.

Donatello was curious and concerned, but did not fret.

He and Raphael had decided to go through the heaps of books Michelangelo had salvaged from the old lair, when their youngest accidentally exclaimed how he had horded them since they were kids because he saw they were fragments of their childhood, pieces of their past they're not supposed to throw away. He collected them for their sentimental value, and because he liked to sift through them every now and then for inspiration, or so he claims.

He and the hothead, in order to find Raphael's missing sketch book, decided to raid Mike's so called treasure chest while he was distracted with the little girl, to find the specific book Raph talked about. Luckily they didn't have to look for long, for Donatello found it displayed right on top of Mike's bunk bed, and he rescued it from the tabby's sharp claws.

The hothead admitted he had completely forgotten about the thing, when he skipped down memory lane while skimming the pages. He remembered the notebook itself was a gift from their father when they were young, and each had a booklet to draw or write whatever they wanted in it. He had thought he lost it when they were seven, after an incident where their old lair got flooded and they had to evacuate to a higher level area.

When he had gone back, their home along with the furniture and belongings were soaked and there really wasn't much amiss, since their home got flooded, but not enough to drift any of the heavy furniture out of the lair. They did have trouble stepping into the kitchen, though, since their father claimed the fridge blew a fuse and it was too dangerous to go in till the power was killed to prevent getting electrocuted, and then have all the water filtered out.

The book was among the things that got washed out, but not too far, from the lair.

Michelangelo had found it and claimed it as his, since Raphael refused to take back a soggy book, and claimed it was useless to keep since he didn't want it anymore, anyway. So it had later been forgotten among the heap of wrinkled old grungy comic books, the youngest had no heart to through away despite their poor condition.

Obviously, throughout the years and losing three homes, Mike still managed to take the book along with him wherever he went. Michelangelo claimed the book was there for a reason, if it survived a flood so many years ago, and survived again when Karai blasted their second lair, then he was willing to bet it lived this long so they could have Dew.

Mike's reasoning simply stated that if there was no Raphael, then there would be no sketch book, and if the sketch book did not exist, then Raph never would have drawn Dew, for whatever reason he refused to share and nearly pummeled Mike into pancakes when he pestered him about the details, and if Raph didn't draw Dew, then Mike never would have found the book along with Don's crystal. When Donatello had met and then lost Kirby, Michelangelo was the only person he told the tale to. So then, if Don never told Mike about Kirby, then Mike never would have thought of using the crystal to bring Dew to life, and she never would have been born.

Besides, their youngest always wanted a little sister, so what harm would it do?

'_A lot!_' Donatello thought in answer to that question, but never said a word.

One little detail, though, Donatello had forfeit of telling his little brother: Not all artwork brought to life by the crystal _remains_ for long.

The brainy turtle was sad, and Raphael, at the time when they were at April's place, was too upset about the heater not getting fixed, to listen to his disheartened brother. Hence, when somehow Mike had found out about the crystal Don had previously found in the Y'Lantian lair, it was obvious he would have tried to make things come alive using the crystal first chance he got, so it was only a matter of time till this happened.

At the moment, Don wished if he had told Mike about the disappearing act, for it might have deterred his enthusiastic brother from doing something like this, and also saved him the heartache.

Upon confronting him earlier, Mike confessed finding the crystal, but he swore that he found it on the brainy turtle's workbench, not in the duffel bag, so he did not go rummaging through the bag, because he didn't even know it was there to begin with.

It could have been worse, Donatello thought; Mike could have tried to draw a hot turtle babe and get emotionally attached to her. Or worse, used the crystal on some of the imaginary monsters Raphael had drawn in his book, and they'd end up trying to either wait it out for the magic to fade, or spend god knows how long trying to catch the thing, assuming its aggressive.

Amusingly, Raphael admitted having a fancy dream about a crocodile-dog chimera of sorts when they were younger. He claimed to have seen it in a dream once and that the creature was 'pretty awesome' so he drew it, and wanted to use it to scare Mike.

Nevertheless, Michelangelo, however, claimed that after he had used the crystal while outlining and inking Dew's original picture, in hope to fix whatever damage the water had done to the colored artwork, once he was done and put the pen with the crystal taped to it on the table, the jewel glowed in a bright pink hue before it just popped like a miniature balloon, sparkles of dust exploded then faded like a wisp of smoke to the wind.

If Mike had known the tiny crystal he found strewn on Don's desk would take so long, to transform a picture on a piece of paper into a living being, he would have stayed up to see it happen.

The hyper turtle confessed that he probably stayed up only ten minutes, and when he saw that nothing happened he gave up and went to bed, so when Raphael had woken up screaming for Don six hours later, Mike never even considered the thought the picture had come alive. To his knowledge, the crystal simply malfunctioned and never actually worked.

He was psyched, in a good way, when he realized Dew was born. He wouldn't leave her side, neither would she with him.

Raphael was unimpressed to say the least, waking up early in the morning only to find a little turtle child sitting on his plastron, staring down at him as if he had a worm crawling across his forehead. It took him will alone not to kick her off or toss her off his chest, though he did remember jumping with a shout and making the poor thing flinch and hop off him in a split second. But he didn't race after her, more because he was groggy and feeling a wave of déjà vu at her presence, than actual fright to see her there.

Eventually, he remembered her from the depth of his childhood memories, though barely an image.

Her familiar dolled face and sweet little smile were what calmed his racing mind, and reminded him, though the recollection came painfully slow, of who she was and what she resembled to him during his youth. He was shocked to discover the magic crystal and how it worked; he was even more stunned to realize the truth behind it when Don told them about Kirby.

It all came rushing back and slammed into his mind so hard, he had trouble sharing those memories with his brothers. He knew exactly why he wanted her, Dew, and what she was supposed to be to him and his family, he just felt fuzzy and unsure. She just came into their life after so many years of being nothing but a fleeting thought; how can one adapt to the birth of an idea he never saw coming?

Raphael had no idea who the shell Kirby was, even after Don told them the story, (to admit, he wasn't listening,) neither did Leo, or why Don looked at the little turtle girl with a rueful smile, but he knew she needed a name and the first thing that came to Mike's mind was Dew. In truth, it was the name originally given to her by her creator, Raphael, when he was a seven year old.

Dewdrop the turtle; Raphael swore he had no idea _what_ he was thinking when he came up with it. He just knew if April or Casey were here, they'd tease him and never let him live it down!

Besides, the original name Raphael had given her, and had clearly crossed out with a black coloring pen when he first created her, was Mona Lisa, but it didn't quite sound that good on her.

Right now, Donatello and Raphael had finished locating the sketch book, and sorting the ones their youngest had in his stash. Donatello was miffed when he found all those missing notebooks he lost during the years with precious calculations and footnotes and such, only to discover Mike _borrowed_ them and forgot to give them back.

The brainy turtle skimmed through the pages, admiring the imaginative creations of Raph and Mike when they were younger.

Raphael, during that, merely thought back about those times when he was little, and wondering what the hell he was chewing when he came up half the critters drawn in those wrinkled pages. Some creatures were so made out of sheer whack he wondered if the book was even his; it sure gave him the impression to belong to Mike from the rich imaginary creatures that existed within its folds.

"Out of curiosity, why'd you make her?" the olive green turtle curiously asked.

Donatello hadn't yet told his brothers about the vanishing effect of the revived artwork, he couldn't gather the nerve to mention it, actually. Dew will go poof before anyone got emotionally attached, he hoped. Although, it might have already been too late, Mike was clearly attached onto her like a parent with his newborn child, from the second he laid eyes on her.

After a long contemplating pause, Raphael shrugged with a sigh, "I guess I need to admit that it's my fault she's mute," he mumbled, and at the confused frown he received from his brother, he sighed again a bit sadly.

"When we were kids, when I drew her, I wished for a little sister," he began embarrassedly, a little sheepish smile followed, "and at the time I remember I made a wish; I wished to have someone I can talk to who wouldn't talk back at me; like Leo does." He mumbled, a sad hint tainted his smile. "I wanted someone I could talk to who wouldn't talk back, not _couldn't_ talk back. What's the point of wishing for a mute sister?" he grumped, frustrated.

The olive green turtle nodded, seeing his brother's point. "I guess we'll just- have to wait and see." He shrugged.

Maybe it would be wiser if he didn't tell them about the disappearing phase, if Dew didn't vanish soon, then she'll probably stick around for a while longer. He didn't know how much time she had left, but he really wanted to know what his family life would be like with her in the equation.

Everyone seemed so happy to have her around, especially their father who seemed to really like the idea of having a cuddly little baby girl, and to have his father heartbroken by a child ripped out of his grasp, made him feel so horribly guilty for keeping a secret so deeply buried inside.

But… how can he tell them she's not real? That she's just a picture come to life and ought to vanish in a blink of an eye any second now? He didn't even know how much time she had with them… it was like watching her slowly die with an incurable illness or something… Was this how people who have cancer felt? Live their life to the fullest though they knew they didn't have much time left?

"I think I'll go check on her," Donatello abruptly declared, and at the lack of a reply from the absent minded hothead, he let his brother dwell into his thoughts as he exit Michelangelo's messy bedroom.

He was troubled; if he told them about the vanishing effect, they all might get attached and treat her like a dying person, but if he didn't then they'll all be shocked when she'd just vanish one day. He didn't know if she'd suddenly go poof right before their eyes, or gradually fade like the door Kirby drew had done, and he had a cold knotted feel in his stomach just thinking about it. Would it be quick and sudden, or slow and painful to watch? It it took her six hours to be born from a picture to a real living person, how long would it take for her to fade?

Would a child even be allowed to suffer such a fate?

He was emotionally torn. How the hell was he supposed to tell his family about this? Her life span was either just a few more seconds, to perhaps a few months, only time could tell.

But the main problem remains; he didn't know how much time he _had_, at all.

It's times like this he wished he knew the right thing to do.

**. o 0 o 0 o . **

She had only been in her new home for barely a day, and only the one wearing orange liked to stay with her the most.

The big furry mouse was nice to cuddle with, but she got the impression he wasn't completely comfortable with her on his lap for long. She wondered if she upset him when she squirmed, or maybe her shell was too hard? She wished she had a voice so she could ask him. Last she saw the big mouse he said something about candles and went into a big room; he'd been there for a while now.

The one in purple and the other in red weren't around, and though she liked the one in purple, the one in red scared her. She didn't know why, but she liked the color red _and_ the big turtle in red, and though he was big and scary, there was _something_ about him she _really_ liked.

Curious where red and purple had gone to, she went exploring as soon as orange went to get some food from the kitchen.

She wondered into a big room with long shiny objects and lots of candles poised around some squared mats, but instead of red and the big swinging bag, there was the one in blue.

She couldn't really describe the expression on his face, or lack of, but he looked like he was sleeping while sitting up, having a not so pretty dream, too. She glanced up at the turtle sitting there on the mats, calm and still and almost like a statue. She quietly stepped closer and peeked at his face, curious to what he was doing, but not daring a touch, still uncomfortable being physical with anyone but orange and the furry mouse.

When his eyes suddenly flashed open and stared at her dead-center, she soundlessly gasped and stumbled back, falling flat on her tail before ending up rolling onto her shell. Startled and dazed, her heart beating wildly in her chest, she stared at the ceiling for a moment before she struggled to push off the floor. She flailed her arms and kicked with her legs, but her limbs were too short to push her off the floor, she was stuck on her shell cause though she could touch the ground beneath her with her fingertips, her arms weren't long enough to push herself up.

She tried again, but became frantic in her movements when she felt the one in blue come closer. She tried to say something, to struggle and get back to her feet and back to orange, but she was frightened to tears when he loomed over her like a beast from a nightmare. Voiceless, she whimpered and squeezed her eyes tight, coiling around herself and afraid of the unknown.

He was probably mad at her for coming into this room uninvited, she was afraid he'd yell at her or something.

"Dew," came the soft, gentle whisper that almost matched orange's nice voice, "I don't know why you're so afraid of me, but I tell you I would never, _ever_ hurt you." He said with a voice so sweet and calm, but looking at his face, she knew there was something that made him sad.

Her young mind could not yet connect why he was sad; little did she acknowledge that her irrational fear of him hurt. But then again, big bro as orange liked to call him sometimes looked at her with that sad smile too, almost as if he saw something she couldn't see.

She stared at him, still a little unsure. He smiled warmly and slowly and tenderly reached his hands for her to take. She hesitated for a moment before taking his hand, trusting he would not hurt her. She took his hand, her tiny hands curling around a finger from the differences of their size; he was so big and she was so tiny, her fears were tossed aside when she took notice of that. He gently tugged, pulling her more upright and off her rounded shell, till she was sitting up again before letting go of her hands.

She sat there and blinked, looked at the floor now cushioning her seat, and then back at the one wearing blue, who smiled at her as if he was going to laugh. She didn't understand what was so funny, or why he was looking at her funny, but she found herself growing shy and smiling about it.

"Dew! There you are." Orange strode into the big room and placed a tray with milk and cookies on the floor, before kneeling besides her and grinning at the one in blue, "Sorry bro, hope she didn't get too curious?" he chuckled.

The one in blue smiled wider and looked at her, "She's a curious one, though I think she might need training." He commented, glanced at orange and then continued, "She fell on her shell earlier and had trouble getting up, I figure she might need some basic training to help her in case she fell again, and there was no one to help her up." He explained.

"Oh, I remember sensei had something for that, right?" orange replied, then scratched his head, "She's too young to have a weapon, maybe a staff or a cane of sorts would do?" he then suggested. "I mean, I remember we weren't allowed to carry real weapons till we were twelve, and practice weapons when we were nine." He paused to look at the baby face that peered back at him curiously, "Raph claims she's supposed to be five, but she barely looks like a three year old to me." He confessed.

"Hmm, regardless of her age, Mike, a cane might help, though we might have to ask for sensei's permission first." Blue then replied.

Orange then glanced at her and brushed down her hair, stroked her cheek and smiled warmly, "Okay, listen up, squirt. I want you to behave while I'm away. I'll just go call Raph and Don so we can all have a sweet snack together, alright?" he cooed gently, and then gestured at the trey with a jug of milk and pile of cookies in a huge bowl.

Eager for the treats, she nodded too fast, which made her hair bounce and flick around till it covered her eyes like the tattered tail ends of a sash.

With a chuckle, Mike, as blue called him, brushed away the hair from her sight, "Alright then, I'll be quick about it so be good with uncle Leo, okay?" he eyed her with an expression she couldn't quite read, and at her shy nod he grinned, "Good, I'll be back before ya know it!" he cheered and tenderly kissed her temple, before he playfully ruffled her blonde hair and pushed off the floor.

If she had a voice, she would have giggled in glee at the kiss, it made her skin tingle and her face warm up for some reason, in a delightful ticklish feel. Her dazzling smile only lasted as long as he stepped out of the room. Already feeling alone, and a little foreign with the one in blue quietly eyeing her, her expression turned more placid, though gradually turning uneasy and shy, she occupied herself with the tangled hair covering her eyes.

Mike had given her a coloring book earlier, but before she went exploring she had left it in the den.

It was a book about a pretty unicorn orange had gotten her. Red wasn't very pleased with the choice, saying that it was a bit too girly, but since she liked it as much as refusing to part with it, he let her keep it.

A few minutes later red and purple came back, so she scooted as much as she could closer to orange. Red still scared her and the way he looked angrily at everything didn't help calm her heart.

She didn't quite get what they were talking about during the treat, besides blue saying they're not supposed to be having snacks in this particular room, and red telling him to shove something, then Mike putting his hands on her ears and mumbling something she couldn't hear.

She blinked; grownups were weird.

All she could understand was that they were busy getting one of the nearby and smaller rooms, turned from a place where they put lots of stuff they don't want, into an extra bedroom. She was going to sleep with orange for the time being, that much she figured, but why red and blue started complaining to purple about something else she didn't understand, made her wonder if she should just go find the mouse.

She cuddled next to Mike who petted her head and cuddled her closer.

She really didn't like the way red was always so angry, it made her feel very uncomfortable, but at least he wasn't angry at her.

She decided that maybe it would make red happy if she did nice things to him? He really looked not-happy. Maybe he was like a puppy? Cuddle him and give him treats and he won't bark so loud? She hoped so, he wasn't a puppy but maybe it would work?

Well, only one way to find out…

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Constructive critique welcomed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

--

_"She's not real, she's just a picture come to life." Donatello concluded his confession, his three brothers stared shocked at him as he told them the horrible truth. _

_For some unspoken reason, he was calm and feeling absolutely fine, not nervous, not hesitant, almost- unreal. But then he paused, and stared blankly into the dark abyss of what he knew as the dead center of Raphael's eyes. _

_For a long, near suffocating moment, Raphael's expression hardened into that of someone ready to attempt a road kill. _

_One second his brother was standing frighteningly still at least five feet away, and in the other, almost as if he had magically teleported in the blink of an eye, he was staring face to face with a darkened look looming over his very soul. Donatello felt his ribcage rattle almost faintly as his shell was slammed against the wall, yet he oddly felt no pain as the harsh impact. He gasped as the breath was knocked out of him, though; albeit startled with his eyes wide and locked into the depth of fiery pools of brown, he heard his own heart drum against his ears. _

_Raph's__ breath was hot against his snout, but scentless for some reason, but the beat of his own heart had skipped at the sudden change of position, the sudden aggression, and it had his spine stiffened like a cone of ice. _

_"I _dare_ you- I just _**Dare**_ you, Donatello! -to walk _right up_ to that child, and say those words _right in her **face!**_" he spat, hissing maliciously, before he gave the purple clad turtle a sharp shove, dropping him to the floor while snarling venomously, as his eyes nearly lit red in suppressed rage. _

_Just as abruptly to the outburst, Raphael twirled around and punched the wall enough to leave a dent, the bricks crumbled with debris to the floor. The hothead stomped out of the room, seething hotly and muttering darkly under his breath. _

_No more than moments later, he sighed in apprehension as the sound of the punching bag's chains rattled warningly in the air. _

_Until a loud monstrous howl ripped through his ears and pierced his mind… _

With a startled snort, Donatello blinked his dry and pained eyes at the glaring light of his computer screen, the loud and sharp beeping from the machine informed him the second-phase results were complete, and he needs to press any key to continue.

He blinked slowly, realizing the previous scenario was all just a bad dream… or perhaps, a forewarning? Somehow, he didn't know which it was, since forewarnings were Leo's specialty… or maybe he was just sleep deprived, the headache and ice-cold empty coffee mug set besides his elbow, as well as the blanket placed on his shoulders, that seemed to come out of nowhere, assured him he had been neglecting himself again, and one of his brothers tucked him in after finding him fast asleep on his work desk again.

The exhaustion combined with the stress only made the itch on his thigh, the headache pounding against his skull, the sneezing fits rattling his lungs, aside the mucus clogging his throat seem like a compiled mess that ruined his mood further.

He felt like a train wreck!

But at the moment, rest was the farthest thing from his mind now that the primary results were finally here, but his body was beyond being capable of doing anything efficiently, such as straining itself to focus on what was even written on that long printed paper. He dropped his head on the desk again with a desperate groan, half delighted with the cold surface of the desk against his hot pounding head, and half aching from the difference in temperature.

He just wanted to sleep and wish these bad dreams away, but such things done come easy.

What would he do for a nice hot bath and then a long, restful, undisturbed good night sleep…

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

With a snort, Donatello blinked his heavy eyelids at the blinding screen before him once again.

With a groan and a stiff neck, he realized he had fallen asleep on the desk again, though unintentionally.

It had been three days, Donatello thought, since Dew came into their daily life, and for better or worse, he was still fretting the answer.

He felt horrible, and also very guilty as their father seemed to enjoy having a child to cuddle up, someone who would snuggle into his side and watch his soaps with him without complaints. Donatello didn't have the heart to break his father's joyous new lifestyle. That radiant and more youthful smile had been something he hadn't seen on his fathers face in years. Master splinter obviously enjoyed the little bundle of sunshine, as Mike called her, and grew happier the more quality time he spent with his little daughter.

In a way, Don couldn't help but feel jealous, and perhaps a little left out, but considering how crushed everyone would be when she's gone, he was ashamed of himself for thinking like a child. Another emotion he'd been trying to cope with as well.

The cold sensation in his stomach only grew worse as his brothers gradually grew more and more attached to the little girl. Furthermore, the purple masked turtle grew more and more hesitant to share his little secret with them, to the point he started spending more time in his lab running tests on the little girl's blood samples. Or at least with Leo and Mike, since Raph for some odd reason acted rather distant to the little girl, but he knew he was just feeling awkward to having her there.

Raphael, to Donatello's perspective, appeared a bit unsure and maybe a little nervous with being near such a fragile, delicate little creature. His hotheaded brother always seemed to handle himself with the feistiest of women, or battles, or whichever came first, but seemed to crumble and shy off children, as if he was afraid he'd scare them or something.

In a sense, Donatello found it highly amusing to the point of having to stifle a laugh, whenever Dew tried to do something nice to his brother who would just stare at her awkwardly before reacting.

There was a time the earlier day where the red masked turtle was working out in the dojo, hot and body soaked with reeking sweat, when in came Dew with a shy little smile and a cool bottle of water, who Mike had goaded her and asked her to deliver it to his hotheaded kin. She offered it to him with a bright smile, but he just stared at her as if he never saw a creature like her in his entire life; as if she was something completely alien to this world.

After a bit or reluctance, Raphael uncurled his fingers from the barbell's bars, loosened his muscles from his tight sitting position, and then accepted the water bottle with a wary expression. Innocently unaware of the awkward stare, Dew flashed him an even bigger and happier grin, before skipping off back to the kitchen to continue with her sketch pad.

Leonardo nearly laughed his head off at the dumbfounded, and maybe a little shy look that came on the hothead's face; Donatello found it quite a new look on his brother's face as well.

Frankly, the leader figured the bruise he received afterwards was well worth it.

Come to think of it, the last he had seen Raphael and Leonardo was earlier that morning, when Leo asked their father if he could search through their old winter clothes for something for Dew to wear. The leader and hothead were probably still in the den watching television, and discussing whether or not the little girl ought to have a color code for her mask, and perhaps clothes.

He would have gone to check, but he was really too tired.

And besides! The cool table top of his work desk was _so_ soothing…

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

"I don't care what color it is as long as it's not pink, because I _still_ say she needs clothes." The hothead grumped from where he slouched on the couch, a white fluffy towel around his neck and beads of sweat on his brow, the faint smell of his body odor wasn't too powerful, but enough to warrant a disgusted face from the blue masked kin.

"What's wrong with an overall? Lots of them around with her size, and given the environment she's gonna be living, it's durable and less likely to get torn or too dirty." He then argued, "Way better than a frilly pink dress, I assure you." He growled at the offending article of clothes they found in one of the boxes. Raphael then threw a lazy arm on the back of the seat, as the other hand clutched the now warming bottle of cool water Dew had offered him yesterday. Instead of tossing it away, he simply refilled it and kept it in the fridge, he didn't want to throw it out.

Leonardo flapped the article of clothes in his hand, from a box of clothes their father had stored from a previous winter, to brush away the dust that had gathered on it during the months of sitting in the storage boxes. Then the leader sighed, a little aggravated by his brother's behavior, and giving up the hints that his brother smelled too strong.

Although he may never admit it openly, he really liked Raph's new prickly side; he found it rather amusing in an uplifting sort of way. To the leader, it told him Raph didn't mind having Dew around the lair, he actually liked having her around as long as she didn't come too close to him, the hothead just felt a little off with her there and needing time to get used to it, though it clearly might take a while.

Who would have thought having such a sweet little a child in the lair, would improve his brother's past impulsively destructive attitude so much? Truthfully he had never before seen the well tempered side of his brother, mainly because there was a kid in the house and the hothead didn't want to make a bad impression, or end up scaring her or something.

Considering how Mike pretty much hogged her to himself, he and Raph never really got a chance to spend much time with her.

Leo was too busy with many other things, such as Don's much neglected health, (and obviously knowing something he wasn't sharing with his brothers,) maintaining the new Lair's safety and the new alarm system working in order, and possible Foot activity, though he felt uneasy at the lull as Karai hadn't come after them again.

Raphael, however, was too busy keeping his distance from the little girl to be his usual rebelling self.

Leonardo didn't know why Raph felt like he had to stay away from her, it worried him for some reason, but he knew the hothead will deny it if confronted with the subject, and might bring up a fight. He really didn't want to ruin Raph's currant well behaved temper over a child, or else Mike might make a jib about them fighting like a new married couple again.

Mike got a bit knot on his head from Raph's fist the last time he said that, no need to bruise little bro's fragile skull further.

"Raph, you remember what Donny said," he began gently, hoping not to offend the uptight hothead, "She might need to have her clothes custom made, our clothes have been used for a few years and though clean, we don't know if she had any allergies, or prone to get ill. Don isn't even sure if she's allergic to anything." He urged himself not to hiss in frustration.

"Yeah, I hear ya." Raphael muttered, stretched his limbs and then pushed off the couch, "Our clothes might be too big for her, anyway." He paused and took a whiff of himself, then wrinkled his snout, "Whew! I need a shower," he muttered, "I'm off for a hot soak, when Mike is done playing daddy-dearest, let him know dinner aint making itself." He muttered, waved a hand and walked away towards the bathroom.

Leonardo was tempted to reply 'Yes, dear,' but knew that would be asking for a knot on his head matching the size of the one on Mike's head, and he honestly did not feel obliged to ask for an accessory, the sore spot on his shoulder was more than enough.

Watching the hothead go, he wondered where Mike and Dew were at, anyway.

Last he checked they were in the kitchen, and they've been there for hours now. "Better go check they hadn't burned anything down," he smiled to himself, set the clothes he had taken out of a storage box on the coffee table, and headed to the kitchen. Perhaps this would give him a chance to bond with the little girl without Mike hogging her to himself.

But then he hesitated for a moment and glanced at Donatello's lab. The lights were still on but there was no noise coming from within; was the brainy turtle still sleeping on the keyboard? 'I'm gonna have to figure that out some time, he's not doing his body any favors…' he muttered to himself, promising to do so and check on the purple masked kin once he was sure Mike and Dew weren't planning to take over the kitchen.

Or worse, plan world domination through being hyperactive beyond his tolerance.

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

Mike gathered the little bundle in his arms and tickled her, and if she had a voice she would have squealed in delight, and then struggled to free herself from his grasp in a fit of uncontrolled giggles.

Mike simply loved the new addition to the family! He loved her more than anything he could describe! He even loved her more than his computer games and comic book collection! … well, maybe not _quiet_, but really close. He might let her skim through them to enjoy the pretty colors, (since he wasn't sure if she can read,) as long as she didn't wrinkle the pages or smear them with oily fingerprints.

She seemed to like Klunk, though his big bright green eyes seemed to frighten her for some reason. She tried to play with the feline the previous day, and being a rough player he pawed her hand and scratched her hand; she's been too terrified to go near him for long ever since. She'd pet his head or brush his back, but wont play if he starts to rub against her, she didn't trust him enough to not scratch her again.

Dew had only 'arrived' into their life for less than a week now, almost literally becoming the baby in the family, and yet everyone had been fussing over her, almost as if she had been there her whole life; which wasn't really considered much, since she was only an eight year old who looked like a five year old, who had arrived merely four days ago.

In the kitchen, he was getting the cookie cutters and the oven pans ready, while Dew was having fun molding the pizza dough and squishing it around like clay. The cookie dough was too moist for her and he didn't want her eating the batter- it would ruin her appetite for the real meal.

He grinned at her from over his shoulder, watching her tongue peek at the corner of her mouth as she tried to mold the ought into what looked like a four legged creature of sorts, he just couldn't recognize the details. It was either a horse, a donkey or a zebra, since it was missing the little details, he couldn't even start to guess what it could possibly be- that stretching neck was starting to confuse him if it was supposed to be a giraffe, too.

Turning his attention back to the sink, clearing the table and cleaning the dirty dishes, since he just had to wait for the cookies to bake before working on the pizza, he remembered how their father taught them how to cook when they were kids, and how he picked up interest in baking.

Cookies were delicious. When Michelangelo was little, he thought the world wasn't worth living without chocolate chip cookies, and he wanted a lifetime supply of them, so he loved baking whenever he could. His love to the culinary arts allowed him and his family delicious treats well beyond the guilty pleasure of sweet, mouth watering cookies.

Even Raphael couldn't deny a good home made pizza, if Mike spent three hours getting the dough, sauce and spices to be _just right_ before popping it in the oven. Even April couldn't steal the recipes, and she when caught a whiff of it, it didn't come out as brilliant as when Mike baked it.

He was a genius, he thought, and you can't mimic great genius.

For a second, he wondered if he sounded like Baxter Stockman…. Nah!

"Hey, what's cookin' doc." Leonardo greeted with a mellow smile, and then blinked at the perky blonde girl, who greeted him with flour powdered on her snout and arms. "My, aren't you a happy mess." He chuckled, and moved to get a towel to wipe away the flour from her face before it started to flake. "Let me get you cleaned up- you look like you went into a fist fight with the flour bag." He teased, and then chuckled at her cute disagreeing pout.

"Leo! Good timing!" Mike cheered happily, "Could you fetch a stick of butter from the fridge? My hands are full right now," he gestured from over the sink where he was scrubbing the mixing bowl clean, suds of soap bubbled all over the tub.

"Sure," the leader replied casually and retrieved the needed item, not bothering to unwrap it because he didn't know if Mike was going to melt it now, or later, and then brought his damp towel to clean Dew's face from the flour. After she squirmed a bit with a giggle and sneeze, he glanced at the clumps of dough on the table, "Um, is this supposed to be a cake dough or pizza dough?"

"Pizza dough." Mike replied from over the sink.

Leonardo blinked, frowned and glanced at the dough again, then poked it with a hand, "Um, isn't it supposed to be softer then this?" he questioned, a little confused at the more solid than he remembered batter.

"It's a new recipe I'm trying; gonna have to wait till it's baked and done before I decide if it's a successes, though." Mike replied and then glanced at his brother with a confident smile, "Besides, Dew's been having fun molding it, it probably hardened from getting aired so long, don't worry, a sprinkle of water ought to fix it." He assured.

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

Dew glanced at the two turtles, who continued to talk about something hard as rock and might break their jaws, but not really understanding what they were talking about, she just looked back at the dough in her hands and continues to squish and mold it.

She tried making a pony but the head kept bending and looking like a giraffe's neck, it was getting kind of frustrating. It didn't help that a lock of hair kept coming in front of her face and prickling her snout, making her sneeze.

She was so distracted by the rebelling pony of dough, she didn't notice Leo, big bro who's really nice and smiles a lot and wears blue, leave the kitchen and then return to stand behind her. Next thing she knew, he gently brushed back her hair and tied it up with something. She blinked as her hair no longer got in her face and turned her head around to look at him.

Her hair had been pulled back into a pony tail, and to her surprise, it wasn't Leo who fixed her hair, it was Raph! The grouchy but quiet one in red. She stiffened a bit, not expecting to see him. He eyed her a bit blankly, before he told her not to move and then tugged at something on the back of her head.

"There; now you're as pretty as a picture." Raph smiled a tiny bit.

"Aww!" Mike drawled with a big goofy grin, "See Dew? Big brother waphie is just a big cuddly teddy who wants a hug; he just looks mean and scary." He exclaimed with a chuckle. Then dodged a towel that got thrown at him. "He's _still_ a cranky teddy though," he added with a laugh.

"Shut it, Mike." Raphael grumped, but didn't sound so angry to the little girl's perspective, perhaps just a little annoyed, "I just don't wanna end up swallowing hair when we eat these experiments of yours." He muttered and then put his hand on her head, brushing back a strand from her forehead. "Blonde hair is hard to see when it's really mixed in dough." He added.

She glanced at him again, not really sure what to do, but she liked the feel of his hand on her head, it felt-- nice. She peered up at him with a beaming, happy grin. Raph then glanced at her, sensing her gaze. His eyes widened a bit, Mike murmured something with a big grin, then Raph pursed his lips, huffed and then left the kitchen stomping his feet, muttering something she couldn't catch under his breath.

She noticed that he talked funny. It wasn't like Leo or Mike, and sometimes he'd say funny words she didn't know what they meant. Most of the time, when Raph was angry and started yelling, Mike would put earmuffs on her head and tell her not to take them off, because there are not-nice words she's not supposed to hear, and Raph was a bad boy who needed to have his mouth washed with soap.

She watched her big brother in red leave, and felt a little sad, already missing the head petting. She liked getting pats on the head, they felt nice.

Why did he not like to be with her like Leo or Mike? Was it something she did? Or did he just not like her? Was it because she couldn't talk like the rest of them? Was it because she had hair? If she had a voice she would have asked, it made her feel felt behind when she couldn't ask why kept not being with her…

Saddened, she stared back at the cookie dough.

Maybe she can make something for Raph to cheer him up, and maybe make him like her?

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: I'm posting this while sleep deprived, I tried to make sure no repeats, spelling or grammatical errors slipped by, but if you spot any, let me know. Constructive critique is welcomed!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

--

Splinter was very amused, he had missed being casually fatherly to a child after so long.

Every since his sons had hit puberty, started in their first few years of teen-hood and became more and more independent upon themselves, he had felt like he had to step back from them and let them find their own path, their direction in life, and what they wanted to do with themselves in their limited lifestyle. They had only recently reached eighteen years of age, and the realization made him feel so very old.

Although Leonardo behaved more like he had reached twenty, where as Donatello and Raphael did not change all that much, and Michelangelo still acted like a child; hence he remains the youngest even if he was practically just as old as the others. The master considering their upbringing and origin, there was no exact scale to count their true ages, but by the way they behaved.

But then he had to watch them grow up and drift further apart, from each other and from himself.

Where Michelangelo still had his child like antics, he could still be an adult when it was needed, though his youngest still preferred being carefree, unbound by too many fun-crippling responsibilities, and generally free like the wind.

Leonardo grew into a more prompt upbringing, almost as if taking after his beloved master Yoshi. That habit had been also tamed after his temperament had changed, and thanks to the Ancient one, his well tempered son was almost back the way he was. The rat master did not think he could handle two hot heads, especially if one of them was more easily trigged because of imbalanced emotional outbursts.

Those emotions were much different than Raphael; Raphael's rage fed him power by his passion to protect and create, whereas Leonardo's raged passion was brought forth by hatred and denial, and the need to take vengeance and destroy.

The rat knew, all too well, revenge was a vicious cycle that showed mercy to no one.

Donatello, though preferred to be with his brothers often times, only locked himself in his lab when he felt the urge to be away from everything, like he had done the past few recent days.

That pattern in Donatello's behavior had worried Splinter for quite some time, and his son's illness at this time had not gotten better as stress piled on, either.

Donatello had always been one for silent suffering. Whenever he got ill, he nearly never lets anyone know, unless one of his brothers found out and he begged them not to tell. Only Leonardo often 'tattled' when he discovers his brother ill and not confessing. Donatello would hold a grudge when being tattled on, but it also goes forgiven when his ailment passes and he returns to his more natural self.

The rat master had noted that when his diligent son grew ill, he also becomes cranky and begrudgingly bitter, hence why he tend to be away from his brothers. The rat master had lost count of how many times Raphael nearly swallowed his teeth for badgering his seemingly peaceful brother far too much, after a good hit from an unexpected Bo staff.

Raphael, however, grew more emotionally passionate as he grew older and wiser, yet his brothers only saw the crackling anger, and not the repressed cry to be treated as an equal to and by humans and his brothers alike.

Raphael was a good child at heart, voicing his feelings and worries over his brothers welfare was not an easy task to his short tempered son. Often, they would be displayed in either an over affectionate or over-reacting fashion, which either earned a lot of teasing or being brushed away, as being merely antsy for action or paranoid.

But his rebelling nature at that which does not go as he pleased irks him, and his natural reaction was to try and pound it to follow his whim. Lessons in life were always taught the hard way, and all Splinter could do with his temperamental son was be there to comfort him when real life gave his rambunctious son more than he could chew, and left him spent and exhausted on the curb, sore and bitter.

Often, Raphael would accept that some things can not be changed and move on, though his acceptance comes on stages since he often refuses to bend to the will of fate and try his earnest to change it, not only for himself, but also for his brothers.

Little do his sons realize Raphael's intentions. His temperamental son had always been good in hiding his true intentions behind a mask of irritation and anger, because he was just too shy to be outspoken with his true feelings, in order to maintain his visage as a 'tough guy'.

Yet, there are times when Leonardo manages to figure his brother out, where as he and Donatello manage to turn it around and sooth the anger, using it to their advantage. That is when Michelangelo would come in to play the main role. The ever charming and cheeky, but loveable imp of a son; Master Splinter could not help but wonder how any of them would have survived this long, if Michelangelo's antics had not pulled them out of their troubles and cheered them up, or nearly turned his hair grey.

Now, that there was a new member in the family, of a different gender and a different mind set. The rat felt like he was up to a whole different challenge with this new arrival, and to confess, he was both excited and nervous.

At first, he wondered if little Dew was going to be as hyper and energetic as her 'brothers' when they were her age, but time passed and proved to him she was but a quiet, shy and apparently obedient, well behaved little child. She didn't fuss too much when she didn't like something, and pretty much did what she was told, but also she was a good listener and such an eager little child to learn new things.

The rat master remembered with a chuckle a meal time the second night Dew had arrived. Apparently the child preferred vegetables over meat, all save for carrots. She would eat the peas and corn with delight, but would not touch the carrots. Michelangelo told her to eat them so she would grow up big and strong, ("And where did I hear that before," Leonardo had teased,) unconvinced, she sent him the puppy eyes in hope to sway him to change his mind, but seeing he was not letting her skip that part of her dinner, she forced herself to nibble on a piece before she made a face of disgust, not liking how they tasted.

Pouting unhappily and avoiding every piece of cooked carrot in her plate, the rat master couldn't help but smile on how she resembled their youngest. She loved animals just as much as Michelangelo did as well, and loved learning new things just as Leonardo was eager to teach her. Michelangelo as well disliked carrots when young, and her puppy eyed attempt resembled his failed attempts to not have to eat them as well.

Of course, a few minutes of enduring her cute, pouty puppy-eyed expression at the foul carrots littering her plate, Donatello decided to rescue her, and snatched them while the cook wasn't looking; or so they thought. Later that evening, Michelangelo realized Dew preferred the carrots raw and crunchy, she did not like them soft and squishy after cooking.

Donatello had been keeping himself away for some time, aside being with her for barely a few minutes during meals, whenever his brothers managed to drag him out of his lab. It saddened her that Donatello did not seem to want to spend too much time with her, that much the master had noticed, but he did not want to disturb his son or disappoint her.

Donatello apparently struggled with his ailment and did not want to pass this sickness to the child, so once he gets better. He will hopefully spend more time with her to teach her the many wonders of modern science, once he had gotten better and is in a friendlier mood.

Michelangelo was doing a wonderful job tutoring her and taking care of her, it made the rat feel old, old fashioned and perhaps a bit out of place with his youngest suddenly acting so responsible and fatherly.

Michelangelo had always wanted a baby brother or sister when he and his brothers were small, and now his wish had come true. Dew was the perfect child to fulfill his son's desire to have a little child to play with and keep entertained.

Dew, though small and shy, was also very curious and perhaps with a secret mischievous streak.

Splinter knew it, he felt it in his bones, there was the way she kept getting distracted when one of her brothers talked about something to another brother, when they weren't paying attention to her, she would often look around and stare far into the distance until they gained her attention again. Often Splinter had found her wondering around some of the old locked doors leading deeper into their lair, especially at night when they all were supposed to be sleeping.

She slept in Michelangelo's room for the time being as the youngest slept with his short tempered brother. She seemed to gradually cope with sleeping alone in a big room just fine, especially after a stuffed panda toy suddenly found its way to her grasp one early morning. She did not know where it came from, no one knew were it came from since it looked brand new, and its box was stashed away in the corner of the room as well to prove it, hence no one cared as long as it made her happy.

Though there were cheeky suggestions, looks and hints it could have been Raphael, the accused turtle had clearly assured he had nothing to do with it, so the subject had been dropped since Michelangelo couldn't find any solid proof to call his brother upon that gift.

The youngest had started calling his brother 'Mr. Teddy Bear' though, and Raphael would often reply by throwing something at his brother.

Donatello had shut off most of the unused doors and wards within the pumping station, and had reserved them as emergency escape routs in case the Foot or Bishop manage to find their newest lair. So most unused or vast unnecessary areas were sealed off, used as a storage chamber or a garage for Donatello's various huge machines that didn't fit in the garage.

Although, Michelangelo had for a while after they moved in, complained how he wanted to explore most of those shut off paths, if only for the sake of mimicking Indiana Jones flicks with Mr. Jones.

Sometimes, the elderly rat wondered if Ms. O'Neil's idea of gifting his son with a video camera last Christmas was a good idea. If Donatello had not stashed away the film packets, their youngest would have recorded every second of their lives as long as the strips of film provided. It was a good thing his youngest reserved his allowance for treats and comic books, or else he never would have put that blasted contraption back in the box where it belonged.

If there was one thing Raphael wanted to get his hands on, was that tape of him singing in the shower their youngest had hid too well.

Distracting him from his thoughts and clearly neglected soap operas on the bright screen, there was a chuckle coming from the kitchen as Michelangelo walked in with a large tray and a jug of milk. The smell of hot, freshly baked cookies whiffed at the rat's nose and Splinter felt his tongue prickle and his mouth water as the aromatic and delicious smell.

Just as soon as his son set the tray on the coffee table before his father and announced to go call his brothers, (starting with Mr. Teddy,) Dew nearly tackled the rat into the couch as she launched into his side with a near rib-crushing hug, or as much as her tiny arms allowed, and a huge soundless laugh on her lips, her huge baby blue eyes sparkled in glee to the treat and the much welcomed company.

Master Splinter chuckled and cuddled her closer, stroking back her golden hair and taking note of the stripped black and red ribbon that adorned the back of her head. He found the ribbon familiar, he just could not recall where he had seen it.

Upon further inspection, he realized it carried the scent of Raphael; how peculiar.

The master smiled knowingly, that was one son less to worry about, now only Donatello's health issues remained.

Hopefully, milk and cookies would tug his son out of his solitude and bring a little life into this little gathering, assuming none of them would snatch a few cookies and run back to what they were doing.

Of course, that was until he spotted the rather large plate that had a cookie all by its lonesome at the corner of the tray, where as said cookie looked suspiciously close to what looked like a turtle… with red strawberry frostings on the head, wrists, elbows and knees, and a huge heart decorating the shell.

With a stifled chuckle, master Splinter knew one of his sons was in for a big surprise, he was both eager and wary, in a fatherly way, to how his son was going to handle it, too.

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

By the end of the movie, it was already past her bedtime, and by the time the credits started rolling she had already fallen asleep in Michelangelo's lap, cuddled in his arms and wrapped in his embrace, warm and content.

Leonardo had previously dragged the purple masked brother from his little secluded corner of a laboratory. Even during and after dinner, Don looked dead on his feet in such an alarming shape, Leonardo had confiscated the lab keys and exclaimed that his brother, after the movie was over, will go his bedroom and get some restful sleep with no access to the lab until told otherwise. The leader was strict in his orders, giving the purple masked kin no chance to argue regardless of the chance of getting his teeth knocked in for it.

After the awkwardly silent meal they all gathered in the den to watch a movie before heading to bed, whereas Don was much too tired and cranky, but did so anyway just to spite the leader, because he was spiteful like that. Despite Leonardo's attempt to make amends and coaxing to take painkillers and get some decent sleep, Donatello remained watching the movie, giving his brother the silent treatment and the cold shoulder.

By the middle of the credit roll, Donatello eyed his mellow orange-clad brother, and then the sleeping child, with a look one would see on a mourning man, old, tired and exhausted. All the while he thought to himself on how wrong it was for someone so small and precious to vanish so young.

Leonardo was starting to worry, but he really wanted Donatello to be fully rested before interrogating him.

Raphael, throughout the movie, had not touched his 'gift' and pretended to not even see it there. When it was the last cookie remaining, he seemed to just stare at it as if chiding it for being there at all, and completely ignoring Dew's longing gaze and wait for him to pick it up. The child had grown tired during the movie and would steal a glance at Raphael whenever he moved or squirmed on the couch.

She wanted his approval, his acceptance and maybe a thank you, but receiving none made her seem like a hurt little puppy for a good while, until Mike decided enough was enough, and questioned the hothead why he hadn't picked up the cookie that was made especially for him.

'_Because I figure it looks too good to be eaten._' Was the only reply he received.

Although the child did not really understand the complement, she figured if he didn't want to eat it because it looked too pretty to eat, then that must be a good thing, right? Hence, her puppy look mellowed just a bit, though she was still a little disappointed he didn't want to eat it. Instead, Mike put it in the fridge for tomorrow so the icing won't melt off.

"You look at her, and you can't help but think about just how precious she is." Donatello softly murmured, gaining everyone's attention.

Michelangelo glanced at his tired brother, then at the child curled up and cuddled in his arms, a small frown knit his brow-ridges but he brushed it off with a mellow smile, "Yeah, she really is something, huh?" he smiled warmly at the child and nuzzled her head, cradling her just a bit, before pushing off the couch, "Better go tuck her in, I'm getting kinda tired myself." He softly announced.

With no need to reply, the others watched him go, and after a moment Raphael got up, stretched, and then left to bed as well, wishing them all a good night sleep- though eyeing Donatello with almost a begging glance.

The purple masked turtle was just too frustrated and annoyed by this point, so with a crack and pop from a few bones, he groaned and went to bed as well, though not before shooting the leader with a sour look. Leonardo did not reflect or challenge it, instead he smiled apologetically, and warmly, wishing his brother a good night sleep.

Now alone with their father, Leonardo remained seated on the couch for a bit more, not really feeling sleep, and not wanting to just walk away from his father, so he remained quietly staring at the commercials, and waiting to see what was on the silver screen next. But upon seeing a listing of a marathon of his father's favorite soaps coming on next, with a wary quirked brow, he wondered if it would be a good idea to get while the getting was good.

Thankfully his father knew his son did not like those old fashioned shows, and shooed him away. After all, they had to be up early to attend their morning practice, sleeping in or late would not do.

Accepting his fathers offer to spare him the cheesy drama shows, Leonardo first went to check on his brothers, wanting to make sure they all had really fled to get some sleep, and not just because the tray was fresh out of cookies.

First he checked Donatello's room. His brother had been so spent he fell asleep on the bed without bothering to pull off the sheets, or take off his gear. Snoring was not one of Donatello's sleeping habits unless he was well _beyond_ exhaustion, which humored and worried Leonardo in the same time. When Donatello snored, it wasn't throaty like Raphael, it sounded more like a cat half purring, half growling against something that muffled the noise, in this case, the un-fluffed pillow stuffing his brother's face.

So the leader gently rolled his brother on the bed enough to tug off the blanket, and to give him a better breathing position or else he might suffocate against the pillow, and then tuck the brainy brother in, making sure he was positioned right as to not wake up with a sore neck, and comfortable to allow blood circulation to flow correctly. Satisfied, he tugged off the purple mask and set it on the bed post, Donatello will know where to find it in the morning, soon followed by the elbow and knee pads, and finally the belt before he turned off the lights and left the room.

Next, he went to Raphael's room. The short tempered brother was lightly dosing in his hammock but not fully asleep, a hand dangled from the side as the usually cranky, frowning and annoyed face smoothed into a peaceful restful expression. Raphael always looked strange while not frowning, it was like looking at something that just didn't belong there, or was slightly amiss. It was a little hard to explain.

Pleased that the temperamental turtle was getting some sleep, and seeing the futon a few feet away was empty, the leader moved to Michelangelo's room, since the impish turtle was not in Raphael's room yet.

Mike had probably stayed with Dew after he had tucked her in. He often did that after their father inform them of her late night adventures, and the orange masked turtle didn't want her waking up at night, thirsty or frightened, and end up going where she shouldn't.

Just as expected, the jade green turtle was in his old room, tenderly stroking the little girl's shell where she lay comfortably in her bed. Mike had a gentle loving smile on his face, and it brightened a bit at the sight of the leader greeting him silently in the room.

Leonardo approached, smiling fondly at the little girl, she looked so adorable when she slept. He then glanced at his brother, wanting to ask if he wanted to stay in the room in case she woke up, but threw was a glint in Michelangelo's eyes that made Leo forget that question, and instead ask another.

"Something on your mind, Mikey? You look troubled." He offered, a hand on his brother's shell in a comforting gesture.

"She's not real," he murmured sadly, and at the leader's confused expression, he continued, "I went to talk to Donny yesterday morning, he fell asleep on his workbench again, so I got his blanket to tuck him in." he began explaining quietly, "The computer started rumbling and some results popped out of the printer. I tried to tell him but he was tired, then he started mumbling how 'she's not real' and some gibberish I couldn't understand." He confessed.

Leonardo remained silent, offering nor words or reaction to that statement.

"I'm not sure if he's even talking about Dew, but- what if he was?" the agony in the pools of blue nearly made Leo cringe.

"What if she disappears like Kirby's other doodles, Leo?" the youngest said sadly. "I know Donny didn't say anything about them disappearing, he never said anything about them anyway, only the portal thing that shrunk and disappeared," he rambled a bit, looking distracted and probably a little confused, "What if the pictures really do disappear after a while?"

The leader had no answer, he did not have the full picture, and he did not understand the situation as whole, or what Mike was trying to tell him, so he shrugged and shook his head, "I don't know, Mikey. I guess only Donny can answer that question." He admitted.

With a little nod, the youngest sighed and watched the child sleep, and then after a few decided to head to his own room and get some shuteye, hopefully long before Raphael's infamous sky shattering snores began. 'God bless earmuffs, dude.' He jibbed before exiting the room.

Leonardo's mind, however, reeled with so many possibilities; the thought of going to sleep was the last thing on his mind at the time.

Perhaps a long meditation session is needed, he thought as he exit the room as well to let the child sleep in peace; if Donatello indeed knew something he was not telling them, then Leonardo will be walking on eggshells considering Donatello's current state.

He and everyone else knew how destructive an angry Donatello can be, and not even the Ancient One can cure something that's originally part of his character; it was like trying to convince a banana that it's actually blue and not yellow.

He was going to need all the training and luck if he wanted to survive this mission.

Hopefully, he'll make it with all his teeth attached; he hated getting a sucker punch by the least likely of turtles.

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

In the middle of the night, Leo couldn't help but peek from under his eyelids.

He glanced at his room's door, and he could have sworn he heard noise outside.

Figuring it could have been Dew, he pushed off his tatami mat and quietly ventured out of his room. He knew she was far too young to sense him coming, or hear him approach, so he didn't want to frighten her, he wondered if he ought to make sure the soles of his feet brushed against the floor and make a walking noise, just so she would expect him coming.

But then he realized the aura flowing within his home did not belong to the little girl, in belonged to one of his brothers. It was thick and hot, clearly a sign of irritation and frustration, but he could not tell if it was Raph or Don yet. Guessing it was his short tempered brother, since Donatello appeared much too drained to wake up at this time of night, he quietly crept closer after him.

Silently and stealthily, he stepped at the kitchen's entrance and peeked inside. The soft glow of the fridge's light told him someone was getting a late night snack. With a highly amused grin, he recognized the skin tone hued under the faint yellow light. He stealthily slipped in and swiftly flicked the kitchen's lights on. The figure stiffened as it had the stolen goods captive between its jagged teeth, caught red-handed like a deer in headlights.

Leonardo tisked with a highly amused smile, "Caught red handed with your hand- or in this case, mouth, in the cookie jar, eh Raphie?" he teased.

The hothead twitched a brow, teeth flashed where they bit deeper into the thick treat, embarrassedly closed the fridge's door and then broke the cookie Dew had made especially for him, chewing on the head. He paused for a moment to taste the treat, drop himself comfortably on a chair, and then glanced at the leader with an annoyed expression, "Yer never gonna let me live this down, are ya," he muttered, a statement, not a question.

The leader chuckled, "I'm not Mikey, as tempting as this is," he arched his brows high and flashed a cheshire grin. "Sweet tooth moment?" he then inquired.

Raphael merely shrugged, and then quietly brandished the beer bottle he had salvaged from the fridge before closing it. He popped the bottle open, taking a gulp or two before gobbling the cookie in merely a few bites, then drowning it with more beer. All the while the currently mask-less and naked turtle stared at the fridge's door, eyes spaced out where he was lost in his own thoughts.

The leader glanced at the fridge's door, now noticing the doodles and sketch papers that adorned it. Clearly Dew's creations wince they were just as scribbly as Mike's artwork. Mostly the pictures consisted of ponies, her and Mike, her and Splinter, or her and everyone, yet Don and Raph seemed to have the least attention in details; probably due to the fact they never spent enough time with her to catch the details.

"She likes you, you know." The leader gently spoke, "She just wants you to like her."

"I know," came the all too peaceful reply. Raphael's gaze focused a bit at the pictures for a moment longer, before he frowned a bit and guzzled a long swig of his drink, nearly drinking the whole bottle at once without stopping for a breather.

Leonardo remembered he tried to do that once, doing some bet with Casey. Drinking the bottle so fast and cold without breathing made it feel like his ears were going to pop out, it was very- uncomfortable. But at least he won the bet.

With a satisfied gasp, Raph let forth a small burp before setting the bottle on the kitchen table, then absently fingering the edge of the tabletop while staring at the artwork again.

"Leo?" he began, voice calm and peaceful again, "Am I being too mean to her?" he mumbled, glancing at his blue clad brother with a droopy look.

The combination of being sleep deprived and drunk always made Leo wonder how Raph managed being so calm, where Don would flip when drunk and sleep deprived. Leo himself and Mike hadn't gotten flat-out drunk before, or at least, he hadn't, and he didn't recall catching Mike drunk, yet. A sip of sake with his father every now and then, yes; they were eighteen after all, but flat out drunk? No, never.

"No, Raph. I don't think you're being mean to her, but you're not being nice enough, either." He confessed, seating himself opposite of his brother, "Why are you so awkward around her, anyway?"

Raphael was quiet for a long moment, probably the intoxication starting to fog his mind, as a small yawn escaped the darker turtle's lips.

Leonardo knew one bottle of beer was hardly enough to get his brother drunk or tired. Usually Raph could go through a dozen before he started acting like a real moron, and flipped like a switch and started smashing stuff, so for now it was a safe zone, Raphael didn't seen inclined to have another bottle yet, so he probably just needed a drink and unwind a little- someone to talk to.

"I feel like the man who's neglecting a child the right to be with her father," he muttered, a little guilty frown tightened between his brows, and he rubbed his eyes, growing tired.

Leo, startled by the analogy and becoming very confused, stared at his brother with bewildered eyes, "Why on earth do you feel that way?"

"Cause she was my idea," Raph replied with a cranky tone, not looking at Leo, instead staring at the pictures once more, expression sad but thoughtful, "Mike just brought her to life, but she's originally mine." He paused for a moment, "In a funny way, it's like I'm the dad and Mike's the mom, but I rejected her cause- I can't accept her as my child for some reason." He bitterly laughed, and then his expression softened a bit, though still sad.

"I created her to be someone I can talk to, someone who I can protect, someone- who makes me feel like my life is worth something." His expression hardened a bit as he palmed his face, "That is why she's been trying so hard to win my approval," he growled a bit, rubbing his head harder, as if trying to sooth a headache, "its just like me and sensei in a whole different level." He added bitterly.

At that, Leo blanked.

Abruptly, Raph slammed his fist on the kitchen table, the bottle rattled and shook, but thankfully did not fall off as the hotheaded turtle pushed himself off the chair, shoving the item back with a loud screech.

"You did _not_ hear that!" he irritably ordered, and Leonardo, still blank, merely nodded. Satisfied, and maybe looking a little glum, Raphael pinched the space between his eyes and quietly bid his brother goodnight.

Leonardo, however, eyed where his brother previously sat with a sad expression.

That confession hurt him deeper than he liked to admit, and it wasn't even direct at him to begin with…

Somehow, he felt horribly guilty for some reason, and wondered if there was a way to make amends.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: dunno what to say about this chapter…


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:

--

The next morning, Michelangelo entered the kitchen with stretched arms and a loud yawn.

He started with a droopy greeting when he saw Raphael and Leonardo were already there, but then his mind focused when he realized they were looking awkwardly at each other.

Of course, being his usual cheerful self, Michelangelo greeted them more warmly, before he decided what the certain not-a-morning-turtle-cause-they're-fresh-out-of-cereal needed some good old, home made pancakes to brighten his mood.

He opened the fridge's door and started picking the ingredients needed to make the home made batter. He did not want to make the packed batter type; often those turned out tasteless no matter how well they were created. After he had picked the eggs and reached for the milk, he froze for a second and blinked as he noted something within the belly of the cooling machine had vanished.

With a wide cheeky grin spread across his face, he glanced over his shoulder to the cranky morning turtle with a huge, knowing grin.

Sensing the gaze from over the morning paper, Raphael forcefully tore his gaze from the article and glanced up, but then nearly flinched at the sight of the creepy grin direct his way. With an intimidated and annoyed arched brow, and a chill tickling his spine, he growled warningly.

"What?" he muttered, folding the paper for now, clearly this will require his full attention.

"The cookie Dew made last night is missing." Mike announced calmly. At Raphael's flat and silent but wary stare, Mike's grin grew even wider. "You wouldn't happen to have seen where it went, have you, Raphie boy?"

Raphael hesitated for a bit, partly freaked by the grin and partly being headstrong and refusing to admit the truth, "It wasn't me if that's what yer asking, I'm not a sweet tooth, ya know." He lied. "On the other side, it _was_ a gingerbread cookie, so I wouldn't be surprised if it _did_ run away." He shrugged.

"Uh huh," the orange masked turtle smiled more cheekily, placed the eggs and milk on the table, just so he wont drop them if his hands got too full, and looked back at his maskless cranky brother, "Hope she didn't put too much frosting, then." He chuckled.

"I didn't eat it." Raph argued, trying to look believable, but already knowing he was failing his own bluff.

When Leonardo snorted and hid behind the newspaper, Raphael shot the leader a dirty look, which made the leader in blue smother a smile in the hothead's expense as well. Partly, Raph was cranky Leo took his newspaper, but he'll sort that out with dear brother some other time; he wasn't done with that sports article!

"But she worked so hard for it!" Mike complained, brandishing his puppy eyes, "The blueberry frosting was her choice, too."

"First of all, she couldn't have possibly baked anything herself, meaning you're the one who probably did everything. Therefore, I figure all she really did was decorate it with the frosting." The hothead corrected, tearing his gaze from the grinning leader to the puppy eyed brother, "And second of all, it was strawberry, not blueberry! You know I don't like blueberry." He huffed.

Mike's hurt pout instantly morphed into a cheeky-cat victory grin.

Raphael blinked, then his eyes widened. He smacked his forehead for falling for such a petty trick with a defeated groan, and then growled at his now mirth-chuckling leader, who, again, hid behind the newspaper.

"I hate you." He growled at their youngest with a sour scowl, not really meaning them.

"Yeah, we love you too, Teddy." Mike teased, and barely dodged the paper cup of ice cold water thrown at him- although it splashed on his side and gave him quite the shock.

He involuntarily squeaked as the icy sensation prickling his thigh.

Raphael growled more in satisfaction at chilling his pesky brother, and then pushed off his chair to continue the punishment and strangle the impish kin, but instead he yelped and struggled to not pummel to the floor, as all of a sudden something slammed into his lap with such force, he nearly toppled back onto his tail on the floor.

It took him only a few seconds to save his tail from getting crushed under his shell, as he managed to grasp the chair and table to keep himself balanced, if barely, but as he tried to stand up straight again, the sight of the blonde girl latched to his leg keeping him unbalanced, made his mind spiral out of control.

"Dew? What- ?" he never got to finish the hasty question, as her big blue eyes peered up at him in desperation, wet with tears and face messy with bed hair muddled with a haunted look of fear.

He stood there bewildered and blown by her terrified features. He could have sworn his heart just dropped into his stomach, but feeling it was all overreacting to her facial expression, he mentally shook himself and gathered her into his arms. But first, to do that, he gently unlatched her from his kneed to prevent himself from topping over, or right on top of her for that matter, and then picked her up and held her close.

Exchanging puzzled looks with his brothers, they all stared in confusion and worry, clueless to what had happened.

She quietly cried onto his shoulder in silent tears, her tiny hands fisted against his chest, she sniffled and hiccupped and whimpered mutely against his plastron. In her grasp she still held the panda toy, which meant she just got out of bed.

A bad dream, was it? What could have possibly freaked her out so bad that she would run to him first thing in the morning?

Something in his mind began to turn though the answer was nowhere to be found, the same something that puzzled him churned in his chest and ripped him to pieces. Raphael somehow knew what had upset her, and yet had no clue what it was exactly, the sense of familiarity was driving him insane. But there was no point in asking her since she could not talk.

With a sigh, he cradled her in his arms and hugged her protectively, sent his brothers a sheepish look, and then took her to her bedroom.

Mike, worried about his precious little sister, wanted nothing more than to follow, but the stern look on Leo's face told him he had better butt out, or his tail might literally get kicked out.

Frustrated, and perhaps daunted so early in the morning, and maybe even annoyed at having his mood spoiled, he pouted and huffed with his puppy eyes still at work, but Leonardo did not flinch nor mentally succumb to his pleas.

Sulking, he flipped the coffee machine on, and then announced he was going to see if Don was up yet.

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

Raphael cuddled the child in his arms the best he could.

True he wasn't too keen on taking care of kids, but at least he knew enough to keep them in the right mood, and not scare them out of their skin or upset them in any way.

He stroked her hair where he lazed back within the comfort of his hammock. They lay snuggled with her head tucked under his chin, her tiny frame curled over his chest, and her breath leaving a warm sensation over his collarbone. She was light as a feather, didn't help that she was rather small to begin with, and her tiny fists pressed between his chest and hers.

Her heartbeats against her chest vibrated across their plastrons, softly drumming against his own. They were quick and rapid, like a frightened bunny being chased by a vicious wolf who wanted to eat her up.

It was times like this he regretted not thinking about giving her a voice; how could he have over looked such a simple thing?

He tried to let her tell him what was wrong, but she did nothing to explain herself, just gazed at him with big blue eyes and unkempt bed hair, sniffling and whimpering, as it someone had struck her where it hurt for no reason other than being mean. But that wasn't the case; he figured she was asleep before she had a nasty dream, and that the nightmare was so real to her mind she was terrified to the bones and abruptly woke up.

But why she ran to him instead of Mike was beyond his understanding.

He didn't remember anything from his youth, when he had thought of her the first time, that might elude her to come to him when she's having a bad time, was there? He couldn't remember. He decided that once she had calmed down, and hopefully went back to sleep, he'll go and dig into Mike's treasure chest for that old sketch book.

Who knows, it might have a hint to why she had behaved as such.

So for the moment, he sighed softly and continued to rock the hammock, holding her close on his chest.

He still couldn't get over the fact that she was so tiny! He didn't remember wanting her to be this small. He wanted her to be somewhere around their size, when he was about seven or eight years old, but just an inch or so smaller. Perhaps when he doodled her out, his idea of heights was not correct and the crystal merely abide by what was written, not what was meant to be?

Maybe Mike _wanted_ her to be this small when he used the crystal?

Distracted, he felt her shift a bit, moving her tiny fist from its sandwiched position, and shyly reach out for something on the edge of his upper chest plate. When her short but mildly chubby fingers traced over an old and faintly discolored scar, he smiled a tiny bit as it tickled, just barely, and nuzzled her head. Other than that, he remained calm.

He let her distract herself by the tiny details, might help her unwind a bit and hopefully tell him, in her own way, what was wrong.

After a good ten minutes of being sloths in the comfort of his hammock, her heartbeats began to gradually slow into what Raphael felt was a more normal pace, her trembling seized as her breath no longer hitched or hiccupped. Her head lay over his chest, baby blue eyes getting a little droopy as she listened to his heartbeats. She had one hand on his shoulder, where the other hand ventured onto the nicks and scars that littered and chipped the edge of his upper plastron plates.

He continued to lie still, holding her close. The somewhat fuzzy and comforting warmth thickening between them was making him feel rather drowsy. It felt nice for some reason, he couldn't really explain it. He sound it rather awkward when he found himself cuddling her, too. He was so glad none of his brothers passed by, it just made him feel so- weird.

Plus, their body heat and her scent of April's lavender shampoo tickled his snout. Mike probably smuggled another bottle into the lair somehow, one that wasn't meant for their father.

His brothers knew how much their elder human sister _hated it_ when Mike _borrowed_ her lotion bottles without asking first.

Raphael grinned, tickled by the memory of April discovering the fact that there was a missing bottle in her grocery bag, a bottle that was meant for her and had somehow found its way to their master's share of items.

Then the fact his impish brother tried to flee with it, only to trip on his own cat and see the bottle sent flying, crash against a ventilation hole right on top of the pool's filtering fans. The gill spilt into the station's water system recycling filter soon after, of which Donatello had been trying to redirect for the past few weeks, in order to use it as a supporting electricity generator in case of a city blackout.

The slight trail of smoke that erupted from the engine afterwards, was enough to trigger the sprinkler system throughout the lair.

Quite frankly, a certain rat master was not amused to have his fur soaked from muzzle to toes.

April, in fact, realized too late that she had made a bad selection of picking a white shirt that day. Good thing she had a brown overcoat to snuggle in, though, or a certain turtle would have had more than one fit that day.

The bubbles and suds that erupted into the engine, foaming all over the pool as well, on the other hand, caused the machine to fuse out with a loud ear-popping bang, and half the lair working on the emergency battery. Of course, the brainy turtle required three junkyard trips over a week, to get the needed replace parts to get that huge contraption working as well as fix all the damage that had happened.

Michelangelo was the chosen one to escort him through his heavy loads, everyone vouched for it.

Mike had learned to buy his own soap bottles ever since, which were a rare occurrence, (since he preferred to waste his money on snacks and comic books,) unless he wanted to start a soapy-water balloon war with his brothers when they least expect it. He would often give them the 'slip' with a while new style; a style none of them appreciated, especially when even their ninjutsu couldn't keep them afoot.

Raphael smiled a little wider, humored by the memories. He absently cuddling the child close and reminisced at how much his little brother deserved those days of agony. Often times Mike manages to flee his duties and punishments and not get them doubled on himself by not letting anyone know, or so he tries, anyway.

She shifted again, lifting her head to rest her chin onto his chest with droopy eyes, then she peered at him and more curious than afraid.

The lack of private space to breathe wasn't daunting, though Raphael didn't want to breathe in her face.

The beer he had last night was still evident in his breath, though, as he realized he hadn't brushed his teeth this morning, and because of that the taste and smell often stuck to his gum and made his breath smell even more rank.

He kept his lips sealed and smiled a tad bit, not daring to shift her in hope not to upset her. He knew she didn't like it when he went still as stone, so he tried to stay calm and relaxed. But peering into and at that innocent baby face, he had no idea what she was thinking; therefore he didn't want to make an involuntary action and end up upsetting her.

To his surprise, she quirked a tiny smile before she pushed herself up and straddled his stomach. She blinked and tilted her head aside, as if she just noticed something that wasn't there before, before she reached out to his snout. He didn't move when she touched at every cut and mark that littered his face. From old split lip marks, to punch of a fist fight, to where a bruise was once swollen and evident on his features.

She seemed to wrinkle her face in thought, switching between feeling the somewhat wrinkly skin of his facial features, and then touching her own face around the same area.

She frowned a little more confusedly now.

She discovered his lips were flat, not puckered like her own bottom lip.

His face was more- blocky? She couldn't find the right word, but Raphael didn't look like a block head- or at least, not the type Leo-bro tended to call him, anyway; his face was a lot rounder and softer than a block, too.

His brows didn't have hair like her. The hair on her eyebrows were so light, they weren't really obvious unless you brush them the opposite way. She hated having her hair brushed the opposite way, it just made her cranky and so uncomfortable. His brows were thicker like rectangular blocks, though, and she knew he liked to pinch them together often, there were lots of tiny wrinkles between them, like the many tiny wrinkles at the corners of his mouth.

But his eyes were like Leo, deep and in a pretty honey-color of brown, except that Raph's eyes were- a lot brighter. They looked like the shine of a candlestick's flame, shiny in a sense of word she couldn't find to describe them. They were like Klunk's eyes, just not as bright yellow, they were nicer and somehow a lot prettier, too. He didn't have any eyelashes like her, either.

Raphael's mouth winkles were curved more downwards, maybe because he pouted a lot, where she remembered Mikey's wrinkles were more upwards, cause he smiled more. Did it really matter if they smile or pout more? How come Leo didn't have wrinkles like them at the corners of his mouth? Leo's wrinkles didn't have a direction, they were like curved lines as if he's just purse his lips in a straight line, going neither up nor down.

But- what about Donny, which was did his wrinkles go? She didn't remember seeing any.

"Looking for something?" Raphael spoke softly, not wanting to scare her, but starting to get a little annoyed at her wondering hands across his face, and resisting the urge to sneeze.

She could tell she flinched the slightest bit before she blinked at him, as if just noticing him there for the first time. Then, for some strange reason, ducked her head and smothered a huge shy smile, as if she'd been caught doing something silly. He blinked, a little puzzled, and then pushed himself up, doing so slowly to be sure to hold her in a cradled position beforehand, so she wouldn't topple off his hammock.

Naturally she jumped slightly at sliding off his chest, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

For a moment he held her there thinking she would ease the grip and sit on his lap once the hammock stopped swaying, but instead she snuggled even closer, burying her head under his chin again.

He sighed, having no clue why she was so snuggly-cuddly and affectionate all of a sudden. Not that he minded, he still thought it was pretty cute, but he had enough cuteness for one day, if he started to overdose on the cuteness, he might start acting like Mikey, and heaven forbid having two of that turtle around! Leo would probably pack his things and jump on the first ship back to Japan, if he did.

Either that, or have a cow! Which, to Raphael's perspective, seemed a lot more amusing, but truth be told, he was glad Leo was home again, he didn't want the leader leaving any time soon.

Abruptly, there was loud and fast knocking on the bedroom door. The two occupants of the room flinched as the door was then swing open. Dew nervously settled onto Raphael's lap, blinking wide as Michelangelo rushed into the room looking as if he had swallowed a rainbow of joy that practically beamed across his features.

"Raphie! April's here, and she wants to meet the new girl!" he happily screeched, instantly snagging the confused child from the dark green turtle's grasp, hauled her on his shoulders and dashed out, letting her latch onto his cheeks as if her life depended on it.

Raphael wounded if her life actually did depend on it, Mike seemed like he had a sugar rush all of a sudden.

With a snort, recalled the child's surprised expression, he pushed out of his room to make sure she arrived at her destination okay.

At hearing April squeal about the unbelievably cute sight before her eyes, he warily wondered if poor Dew would survive the affection.

**. o 0 o 0 o . **

Puppy eyes peered at the redheaded human, tearful and a bit confused.

April sighed, sheepishly watching the little girl where she hid behind her father's robes.

"I'm sorry, master Splinter; I didn't think she'd be so scared." She apologized, feeling guilty to have terrified the little girl so badly.

"Well I'd be scared out of my wits too if you screamed into my ears like that, too." Raphael teased, and received a flying cushion in reply. He chuckled as he dodged it, and was about to give another smart retort when the second cushion, he had not seen coming, made a muffled thud as it slammed against his face.

Laughter erupted at the sight, and the hot head scowled and demanded silence, especially from a sniggering orange masked kin.

Splinter stroked the girl's hair, his thin nails gently scratching her scalp. She seemed to like the sensation of his nails running across her head, and clearly made her a little drowsy as well. Michelangelo had explained to his father that Dew had probably woken up earlier because of a bad dream, therefore was probably tired and a little cranky, but otherwise is doing alright.

April gazed at the little child with a fascinated smile, her green eyes peered at the tiny details with a growing motherly smile.

Leonardo leaned aside on the couch to rest his elbow into the armrest, fascinated himself at how their adoptive human sister seemed to taken by the shy little turtle girl. Dew herself seemed to overcome her own hesitation, vaguely finding interest in April's bright green eyes and almost blazing-red hair. Leo had always wondered if April dyed her hair, as the bangs sometimes took the shade of bright magenta, the bright red almost seemed unnatural at some angles but completely normal at others.

Regardless, it still made her look strikingly beautiful.

"So what's the occasion, April? I kinda doubt you zipped in here because some fairy told ya we have another baby in the lair." Raphael muttered at he glanced at their orange masked brother, while sitting exactly the mirror opposite of Leonardo's position at the other side of the couch.

Michelangelo, in reply, merely stuck out his tongue.

April tore her gaze from the coy child and glanced at the huffy hothead, paused for a moment to weight her answer, and against her better judgment, grinned and answered wittily, "Gee Raph, I'm sorry! I didn't know you were the mom! Congratulations!" she laughed.

A moment of suffocating thick silence fell heavily into the crowd, heavy enough to crush their very existence into oblivion, but at the awestricken and bewildered look that plastered all over Raphael's face, as his eyes bugged out the size of cup saucers and jaw dropped, the silence soon exploded into a hysterical fit of laughter by everyone- Splinter merely bit his lip in a poor attempt not to laugh as well.

At that, Raphael's face practically turned multiple shades of red, brown and purple before he _finally_ exploded.

And Dew, as usual, had no clue what was going on as she watched him dish out some serious wrath.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Regarding April, I'm not too sure if she's that wiseass'ed, but I can see her doing something like this when in a pesky mood. he he he.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:

--

Raphael was not the least bit amused, not with himself or his friends and family.

After that incident of exploding so angrily at his friend's face earlier that morning, he had not been able to face her or the family.

His face was still tainted with the faintest shade of purple; the tightness pounding against his brain had not yet seized fully, either, nor had the guilt. That was simply because he was still mad, but more so at himself and his overreacting action than at their human sister.

He never meant to upset her, not to the point of welling such huge tears glistering against her brilliant, emerald green eyes, he just overreacted and said things he did not mean; he didn't even remember _what_ he said. Nevertheless, once the words had left his big and stupid mouth, he felt the most intimidating chill stiffen his spine, and yank his angrily bloated head back into his head, which quickly set him back to his senses.

He had never seen Leo and Don with such venomous looks before, either; it was creepy.

His father was not the least bit amused, either. Yet thankfully, Mike seemed to have taken Dew and fled before his tantrum ended; to protect her innocent ears again, no doubt.

Nevertheless, he meekly and hastily apologized to April, and she forced a smile and tried to brush off the little outburst, but the single tear that slid down her cheek, before she quickly wiped it away, made him mentally kick his tail even harder.

Frustrated, he finished his forty-fifth lap across the lair's pool, only five more to go before his punishment is over.

Although often their father made them do back flips as a type of punishment, or let him pound the living tar out of the punching bag to vent out some steam, master Splinter decided to try something new. Fifty laps in the swimming pool, to both wear his angry son out and let his mind chill in the cool waters.

Raphael was getting tired already, and the cold waters weren't helping. In fact, it only seemed to make his movements slower and sluggish.

With a stubborn grunt, he pushed away from the side of the pool and dove deep down to the bottom, touched the neatly tiled floor, and then pushed back up to the surface to reach the other side. Once at the other side of the pool, he paused for a breather again, before kicking the wall and dash towards the other side again, continuing on his laps.

Raphael was so absorbed into his thoughts, he did not even notice he was being watched.

At the far side of the lair, on the second floor at the far corner of the cat walk, Leonardo settled besides another cranky turtle with a hot mug of coffee, offered as a peace treaty for the time being.

Donatello glanced at the leader, and then at the mug with a tired but thankful smile. He accepted the drink, took a sip, and then sighed contently as the soothing taste warmed the inside of his mouth, before he continued to watch their short tempered brother anxiously dash across the pool, like a ping pong ball ricocheting against the walls.

"He's really mad." Don commented empathetically, "He already surpassed the fifty lap limit, he's on his sixty ninth now. He's slowing down but not stopping;" He nursed the cup and glanced at the worried leader, "Think we should call him on that?"

"No, let him be. Raph is probably aware of that and just doesn't care anymore." Leo replied simply, legs hanging down the cat walk, he swing them a bit like a child as he watched the hothead swim, "Besides, something tells me he might really need the workout, he's been pretty- aggravated as of late." He then said, watching their brother speedily swim around as if he was being chased by a shark. "It might help him sleep better at night, too. His insomnia had been becoming more prominent lately."

With a simple nod of understanding, they fell into silence for a moment longer.

The crisp smell of freshly brewed coffee beans tickled Leonardo's nostrils, but being someone who was more into tea, he mildly wrinkled his snout and resisted the urge to snort away the scent. He had always wondered how Don could drink something so- thick. In his opinion, green tea was lighter on the stomach, more tolerable and not as bitter, and surely a lot healthier than pitch-black caffeine.

Frankly, he thought of it as something close to being consumable tar. It was lava hot and tasted absolutely god-awful!

Truth be told, Leo had tried taking coffee before, but after a few days he felt that if he didn't drink any, he would become cranky and with a pounding headache. Withdrawal, he realized, like some sort of unhealthy addiction. Since young, Donatello and Raphael found their own taste in preparing caffeine, and both agreed to find the beverage appealing at their personal level, while he had not.

At least Raph added some sugar and cream when he drank coffee, Don drank it black and thick, and the brainy turtle's withdrawal symptoms were a lot scarier than the hothead.

Michelangelo, on the other hand, would not touch it with a ten foot candy-cane.

"We're really worried about you, Donny." the leader quietly but suddenly began, somewhat surprising himself to have chosen to speak without a thinking. His sudden conversation caused the turtle besides him to flinch, and then turn to him with confused eyes. Leo decided since he already started the ball rolling, he might as well fess up; he'd been hoarding the worry in his chest and needed to express it in words.

"You spend hours upon hours in your lab, and you barely come out anymore." He said, eyeing his brother with worry.

Don hesitated for a moment, fingered the half empty mug in his hand, took a sip with a slow swallow, and then spoke, "I just have a lot of projects to keep track of." He answered at first, fingering the cup's rim, "With the ever growing number of mutants mucking about the city, Leatherhead and I have been trying to develop new arsenal of tranquilizers and snares to keep them under control." He explained, idly staring at his reflection in the black liquid.

"You're a pretty bad liar, you know that?" Leo commented with a small parental smile.

A little offended, Donatello scowled at his brother, "And why would you say that?" he huffed, frowning just a bit.

"I say that, because you hadn't been to Leatherhead's place in the past two weeks." His brother in blue arched a brow, legs now pulled up and hugged against his chest, he leaned back a bit towards the turtle in purple, and lightly nudged him with an elbow, "and besides! Do you honestly expect me to believe you've been running tests on blood samples and what not for the past week, when you hadn't been out to get any fresh ones for the same time period as well?"

"I took samples from Dew," Don complained, though weakly.

"You never came anywhere _near_ her!" Leo argued a bit more irritably, then let his legs dangle again, (he didn't find the previous position comfortable,) as he pinned his fists on his sides in a scolding-motherhen fashion, "The one time you did, was at dinner when you took the carrots she didn't want. But other than that, you never came anywhere near her." He gently scolded, "In fact, I'm betting you're only wearing yourself out running so many tests on those blood samples, because they're _yours!_" he finished, tone dropping from bossy to worried.

Donatello stared, expression blank and eyes void of any emotion.

"Donny, if there is something going on with you, anything that troubles you at all," he paused to look at his brother's still bandaged thigh, "you can talk to us about it, cant you?" Leo nearly begged.

Leonardo hated it when one of his brothers left him in the dark, it made him feel like they didn't trust him enough to tell him anything.

Donatello forced himself to tear his gaze from the leader for a moment, shuffling through the scattered maze in his mind, sorting through his mind to pick the right words; this was going to take some careful tactics. He fingered his mug for a second longer, not wanting the leader to get suspicious if he took too long to answer, before guzzling down the last of the bitter beverage, and then let out a throaty gasp of satisfaction, he sighed.

Leo glared, he wanted an answer, and no matter how Don kept his mouth busy to gain more time, he was willing to wait for one.

Always being a bright one, Don knew when his time was over and some sort of reply was required, "I just- have a lot on my mind Leo," he somewhat complained, but was sincere as well, "when I'm ready, I'll fill you in on the boring details." He pleaded.

"Promise me." Leo demanded; expression stern and serious.

Don mentally cringed; he was hoping Leo wouldn't ask for that, because he had no intention of talking to him about anything at all.

With a defeated sigh, he replied, "Promise." He murmured as he looked back at the pool.

After all, he said the word 'promise' but he never included that he was doing the promise, since there was no 'I' in the sentence. As far as Donatello was concerned, as long as Leo was satisfied with the bluff for now, he would have the chance to think of a better excuse without the leader breathing down his neck.

Was this how Raph felt when Leo got into motherhen mode? No wonder they fought so much. The brainy turtle resisted the urge to shove Leo off the cat walk and into the pool; as amusing as it might seem to surprise two turtles in one go. Then again, if Leo ended up pummeling on Raph, they'd both be after his tail, which would not be a pretty sight.

He still found the prank rather amusing, though. Maybe when he's feeling better, he'd give it a try.

But then he sobered up, because there was still a little problem.

When he tried to get samples from Dew, Mike wouldn't let the needle come anywhere near her, even if for medical reasons. The one time Don did manage to prick her with a needle, was while she was sleeping, and he received no samples whatsoever. It was as if he jabbed the needle into nothingness. There was no blood, no tissues- as if she didn't even exist as a solidly materialized being.

Almost as if she was a ghost they all could see and interact with; or an imaginary friend of sorts. It was mind boggling.

But those were troubles to mull about some other time. Apparently satisfied and unaware of the little misfit pulled passed him, Leo nodded in satisfaction after Donatello's answer, skeptical but sure his brother knew what he was doing, and would come to talk to him if he had any troubles.

"Whenever you're ready, Don." He assured, a little more brotherly now.

Donatello smothered victorious grin, and merely replied with a mild small smile. Leo can be such a gullible dope sometimes, it was funny.

Amused and satisfied, Don gazed at the pool once more, but his eyes widened as something else caught his attention. "Ah!" he suddenly perked, brows knit in a slight frown as he set aside his now empty coffee mug, "He's gone!" He commented before he hurried to the stairs. He could just jump down, but his leg injury made absorbing impacts upon landing more straining against his ankles, and he didn't want to risk spraining them.

Leo stiffened at the tidbit and faced the pool. Raphael was nowhere to be seen, but there were ripples and bubbles clearly diminishing somewhere in the middle. Feeling his heart pummel into his stomach, the leader swiftly maneuvers his way down the catwalk without dropping into the pool, and gracefully landed besides his brainy brother.

He then proceeded to discard his swords on the nearby garden chair, (who Michelangelo tended to set the sun lamp at, when he wants to pretend he's a big rich hotshot at his own palace, glass of lemonade and sunglasses included,) and instead of brashly leaping into the pool, he dipped a foot into the water to check the temperature.

The water was mildly cold, it made his skin prickle just a bit, but his body was rather warm to begin with, so it was normal. A splash erupted from a few feet away where the purple mask tails vanished in a blink, and Leonardo growled. Donatello was _not_ in a condition to go into water at this temperature! So quickly he gracefully dove after his olive green brother, but in a quieter manner.

He was a little surprised to see Raphael sitting cross-legged at the bottom of the pool, meditating Indian style, with a frown between his brows and tiny string of bubbles slipping from the corner of his mouth.

Confused and now thoroughly puzzled, he glanced at Donatello, who blinked quizzically in reply before shrugging. It was unlikely for Raphael to meditate, not at the bottom of the pool, anyway. Not that he couldn't; their hotheaded brother knew when he needed to mentally and spiritually ease his mind into a standstill to find his center of balance again, but they also knew it could take the hothead a while to find enough solace within himself to get there.

Then Leo remembered; Raphael loved rainy days and always went out when the sky was tearing up a storm. Also, whenever they were at the farm house, Raph would be at the lake, peacefully content with the surrounding nature. So perhaps the bottom of the pool was the only place quiet enough for him to be able to focus and meditate? There was just too much risk he'd run out of air.

True they were humanoid turtles, but he did not want the hothead to push his limits, not after so many laps and the excessive energy he had spent underwater at this temperature. They were partly cold-blooded, after all. Their bodies could form enough heat and keep them active and not fall into a state of hibernation, but after too long inactivity in cold weather, their bodies just want to curl up and sleep.

The pool wasn't that cold, but it was cold enough to gradually put the hothead to sleep.

When young, they had gone through multiple brotherly competitions to see who could last underwater longer.

Mike had tied at first place with Raphael, being able to last underwater for a good twenty to thirty minute period, where Donatello and Leonardo were only three to five minutes behind. Mike was a natural grace underwater; the guy swam like a fish at its natural habitat, whereas Raphael was a little slower because of his bulk, and since he seemed more likely to keep his guard up.

It's been on rare occasions that they even had to fight underwater, but the very few times they did, it proved to be quite the challenge.

Not wanting to risk Raphael running out of air while underwater, Donatello reached out to touch the hothead and stir him. Leonardo watched as Donatello gently shook Raph's shoulder, who in turn jolted with a burst of bubbles, eyes wide and a strangled expression, gawked at them for a moment, before his cheeks bulged, and then swiftly shot his way up to the surface in a mad dash.

The leader blinked in surprise. He sure hoped Raph hadn't breathed in any water; it was a pain to get water out of your lungs. Although for some reason, it wasn't as hectic as drowning to humans. Human lungs tend to keep the water in the sack until it is somehow sucked out and extracted, where he and his brothers' lungs seemed to somehow absorb the liquid.

It wasn't an immediate process, a rather slow one, really, and Donatello realized it merely by coincidence. All the brainy turtle could say was that it was probably part of their turtle capabilities.

Leonardo warily looked at Donatello, who eyed him with a sheepish glance, and then swam up after their startled brother. Donatello followed soon after, partly humored and partly guilty; he hoped Raphael wouldn't be too mad at him.

Once hitting the surface, first thing the leader did was swim towards their gurgle-coughing brother. Raphael had climbed out of the pool, settled on his hunches and with his head bowed, kept coughing raspy wheezes, speckles sprinkled on the floor before he gagged for a second, and soon let forth the huge puddle of water he had swallowed, the liquid gushed from both mouth and nostrils.

Guilty and alarmed, Donatello approached and feebly encouraged his brother to let it all out. Leonardo tried to help the dark green turtle settle in a more comfortable position to breathe easier, but realized how cold his brother's skin was. So he went to fetch a blanket, Raphael had clearly caught a chill.

A minute later once Leo had left, Raphael gave a few last coughs before scooting a few feet from the puddle, and then promptly just collapsed on the cold tiled floor, trying his best to breath. Naturally, thanks to Donatello's first aid sessions, Raphael remembered to take position on his side, arms positioned under his head and leaning a little forward to ease the breathing.

He could tell his lungs had a good amount of water; it made it so hard to breathe. After that, he sent a tired but sour look at his brainy brother, as if silently scolding him for catching him unaware and made him inhale so much water.

"Gimme a heart attack why don'tcha!" he scowled, teary eyed from the ache.

"Sorry, didn't mean to spook you, Raph." The brainy brother began, "I thought you've already felt me coming." He shrugged.

With a snort, the hothead cleared his throat before speaking, "I did," he somewhat croaked, "I just- didn't think you were so close." He paused to let out another snort and cough, "It was all lack of- correct distance calculations, I guess." He scowled a bit, gaze distant as he talked more to himself than to his company, "I'm getting rusty; the overall distance in my head after I felt you coming, said you were _at least_ three more feet away…" He paused in what Donatello could describe as confusion. Rubbing his sore eyes, snout already twitching with a prickling sneeze that won't come out, Raphael continued, "The water's mass at bouncing back your heart's vibrations must've confused me."

A part of Donatello couldn't help but perk in glee at the un-snarky reply he honestly expected, and almost screamed 'Geek!' to his brother's unusual analysis to what went wrong. But of course, knowing this was Raphael and not someone equally geeky, he wisely decided to keep the little tickly feel of joy to himself. After all, Raphael seemed irritated enough, and telling him how he suddenly sounded so _smart_ might offend him, so there was no need to ruin it further.

"Sorry about that, didn't think we were that close." The brainy turtle apologized, containing his glee.

Oddly, Raphael perked and glanced at his brainy brother, "We?" he began, and then scowled a bit, "Wait! Leo was there?" he inquired in mild disbelief, and when he received a nod in confirmation, he groaned and palmed his face, "Oh great; go figure why I couldn't pinpoint it- there were two of you!" he growled, probably more at himself than at his brother, "Damn, why is Leo always so invisible underwater? I just don't get it!" he muttered.

Sheepish but amused, Donatello simply stroked his brother's head, a meager attempt to keep him warm.

"And speak of the devil…" Raphael quietly murmured, harmlessly swatting Don's hand away, sulking at the general direction of which Leonardo approached with a thick double-coated blanket and a hot mug of tea. "That had better not be green tea, Leo." The hothead croaked, too nauseated to attempt rolling to his shell or get up.

Leo stopped, blinked and stifled a snort of laughter at the frog-like croak he heard. "No, it's chamomile and mint." He amended, and smiled wider at the grossed out expression he received, "Oh c'mon Raph, it's not _that_ bad." He gently chided.

He placed the mug on the nearby garden table, and then with help from Donatello, lifted and then escorted the chilled hothead towards the garden chair, before promptly wrapping him up like a cocoon with the blanket. Despite the fuss, Raphael soon stopped trying to push them away and latched onto the comforting warmth of the blanket. He settled onto the chair and it only took a moment before he finally sneezed, three in a row, before gasping for air. The ache stabbing his nose after the sneezing fit became more evident, as he lightly touched his now reddening snout to ease the pain.

A period of silence passed before Don settled on the other side of the chair, aware the piece of furniture can probably handle their weight, and took Raphael's wrist to check his heartbeats. Once sure his brother's heartbeats were regular, and since he didn't have his first aid kit to check his brother want going hypothermic, he glanced at the pool, before looking back at the hothead, unsure how to phrase the question.

"So what were you doing down there, anyway?" Leo broke the silence, practically stealing the question from his brainy brother's lips.

The hothead glared with sore eyes at the leader, not because of anger but because his eyes hurt from the suddenly unnatural bright lair lights. After a pause, he sniffled and then rolled his neck to pop a few bones, after pulling the blanket closer, "Nothing," he muttered and closed his eyes for a moment, before he glanced at the hot steamy mug of tea on the table.

"I'm not drinking that." He added flatly, picking up the previous conversation.

"Of course you won't," Leo replied with a leveled tone and quirked a smile.

Donatello wondered if he ought to get while the getting was good, or stick around to see what will happen next.

But also, he wondered when Mikey and April were coming back home, he just wanted to know what April needed their baby brother for.

Dew on the other hand was down for a nap, being tired after a restless sleep, with their father looking after her.

When Raphael seemed to zone out on them again, he exchanged a worried glance with Leo, before they both wondered if the hothead was really having trouble with something he could not share.

Donatello knew the feeling, and if he knew Leo, the leader was going to try and prey the information out of Raph as well.

He just hoped Leo knew what he was getting himself into.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Got nothing to say about this chapter; the end might feel a little choppy, cause I ran out of worthwhile things to say that wouldn't drag on endlessly. Constructive critique welcomed!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

--

Snoring softly, he turned his head from side to side, before flipping onto his stomach and mumbling under his breath.

Leonardo watched, in mild amusement, as Raphael slept the hours away after the exhausting activity of swimming laps in the pool.

Not that he would have blamed his brother for falling asleep and snoring so loudly, it was tiresome just watching him. Raphael had the most stamina among the four of them, and if ninety to one hundred laps in the pool were his limit, then Leo wondered if he, himself, could manage that number or even come close to it, before sinking to the bottom like a rock from exhaustion.

They may be turtles, but underwater labor was not regularly among the objectives of their training sessions. Battles over the surface of water, yes; battles involving falling - or no falling- into water, yes; but battles that accrue in or _under_water? No; not that he remembered any, save for that mishap with the sea creatures on that trip down the lake with April and Casey many weeks ago.

He pondered about that in the safe sanctuary of their home, delving upon the crispy warmth provided by the sunlamps above. Gearless and bare, Leonardo sprawled out his limps with a satisfied groan, as the soothing caresses of heat basked his skin into a lulling feel of satisfaction.

Basking lazily, he glanced sideways at the general direction of what sounded like a chuckle. He smiled while he watched his brainy brother trying to communicate with the little girl; an effort to get to know her better.

Donatello and Dew were a short distance off. Dew did not seem interested to lay under the sunlamp and preferred to settle nearby with a coloring book and some toys, probably waiting for Mike to come home. Later on, Donatello abandoned the warmth of the sunlamp and settled with the child, hugging her where she happily nestled on his lap. A reading book in her hands, he read the story to her.

The olive green turtle would then pause during reading every now and then, to ask her if she knew what the word he just read had meant, or if she knew how to spell it using the lettered blocks available close by.

One thing Leonardo was sure of, Raphael needed to watch his mouth; catching Dew mistakenly trying to spell 'Duck' by exchanging the 'D' with an 'F' was not expected or appreciated. Their father would have had a very long lecture regarding the hothead's dirty mouth, while Mike would have had a cow if he saw her spell it that way.

Raphael grumbled and rolled onto his shell, sneezed twice, groaned a bit droopily as the pain buzzed him from his rest, only for a moment, before he then rubbed his aching snout. Once his nose no longer hurt, and there was no sign of any more sneezing, he drew in a deep breath and mumbled again, seemingly he slipped back into dreamland.

"Hey, Dew?" Donatello whispered to the little girl, but it was loud enough for the leader to overhear. "Do you want to give Raphie-bro a thrilling surprise?" he grinned, rather too mischievously Leo had thought, and watched as the little girl brightened considerably before bobbing her head excitedly in agreement.

Leo grinned. Dew seemed to want to do her best keeping everyone happy, especially Raph and Don.

Perhaps the child sensed that those two were uncomfortable around her, or she thought they didn't like her and wanted their affection? He knew they liked her, but suddenly having a sister pop out of nowhere naturally needed some getting used to. Regardless, she was very delighted Don wanted to take the time of day to sit with her, do stuff together like math, and teach her how to spell easy words so she would know how to read on her own later on.

Raphael, however, though he had been nicer, still wouldn't spend such close quality time with her.

Leonardo frowned slightly, recalling the blip in the kitchen a few days ago. Could it be that Raphael still felt awkward and uncomfortable with her? What could the leader do to help the never-admitting shy brother to get to be with his little sister more? He wondered if Raphael would ever get over his hesitation, and start to interact with her more.

It's been pretty much over a good week since she had come into their lives, and the more time they all spent with her, the more attached they all became. A part of him insisted he shouldn't get attached, but his heart fawned over her, she was just so small and precious. How could he ignore something so small and frail? Perhaps it was a parental affection, the need to protect her and keep her safe and close?

After all, it's not like she was going anywhere, she was here now and she's here to stay.

Also, it was only a matter of time, Leo thought with a smile, and Raphael will warm up to her, he was sure.

Their father, who was currently catching the rerun of one of his favorite soaps, peacefully enjoyed his television show as they took care of their little sister. April and Mike hadn't called from their mysterious outing, but Leo had the impression they we probably on their way home, so there was no need to fret and call them. His gut feeling often told him when things weren't going right, and currently he felt at ease, so they were probably just fine.

"Why don't you draw him something then?" Donatello continued, pulling Leonardo back into the conversation, and Donatello's grin spread wider as the child in his lap tilted her head, eyeing him quizzically, "Do you know what Raphie likes? I'm sure if you draw them for him, he'd be- delighted." He goaded with a low chuckle and a widening grin.

Leo quirked a brow; continuity calling their cranky brother by his much loathed baby name, combined with that smile weren't very comforting. So what exactly was Donny planning?

Innocently unaware of the scheme being woven, Dew pouted cutely and shook her head, having no clue what Raphael liked, and silently griping why Donny-bro wasn't telling her what it was already. She peered at the purple masked turtle, waiting for him to tell her so she could surprise her big cranky brother.

Donatello glanced over his shoulder towards the quietly sleeping turtle, then back at the little bundle in his lap. "Bugs!" he announced quietly, a huge cheshire grin on his lips. "Big, slimy, icky, crawly creepy little grubs," Don announced quietly, smiling wider as Dew's expression wrinkled into that of shock and disgust.

Leo felt his jaw drop, despite his sprawled position, but quickly snapped it shut and smothered a laugh.

Oh Donny was going to get a good kick out of this. He just hoped Dew won't get the burnt of it.

"He likes the big, green slimy ones," he lied, growing more amused as the little girl's eyes widened, believing every word he said. "Slugs are his favorite! I bet we can go topside and dig up a few before he wakes up!" he continued on, grinning madly from ear to ear, if he had any, as the child also seemed to grow more excited with the thought of going topside, "As a matter of fact, I'm sure he'll lov-"

_THUNK! _

"**Ow****!**" Don suddenly yelped and smacked the back of his head, rubbing a sore spot that hurt.

Reluctantly, once his eyes stopped watering in pain and sight weren't so blurry, he glanced around and over his shoulder at the garden chair behind him, and was met with a cranky, sitting-up-scowling, irritated brother, "Ehee… hi Raphie," he chuckled warily. "Had a nice nap?" he smiled sweetly, trying to coax the angry turtle with a poor attempt of the kicked puppy expression.

"I saw what you did there," Raph muttered with a growl, the tiniest irritated quick of a smile curved the side of his mouth. Then, he fully sat up on the chair and stretched out his arms and legs, popped a few stiff joints, before he crossed his arms and sent a scolding look at his brainy brother.

Don chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head, where Raph had slung him with a thick cover book he was reading earlier, and continued with the innocent puppy eyes.

Dew, unsure what happened, but aware her big brother was awake again, slowly crept out of Don's lap and shyly made her way towards the yawning bigger turtle, who was still basked under the hot rays of the sunlamp.

She stared in awe for a moment at the almost shiny grass-green skin against the bright lights, it reminded her of that pretty green crayon she accidentally broke earlier; it was labeled grass green. She wasn't sure what real grass looked like, she'd never been topside, but Mikey bro did say that Raphie bro smelled like dirt… wait- did that make Raphie bro a plant?

She shook the thought out of her head, she'll figure out a way to ask Donny bro later. Raphael's skin never looked so shiny before. When he yawned earlier, her eyes widened even more at the glint of his fangs against the bright lights. She walked closer until she was only one foot away from touching him, and looked at his face with an expression of curiosity.

Raphael, noticing her presence, then stared suddenly mesmerized by the illuminated glow of her brilliant blue eyes against the lights. It was like staring into a magnificently starry gem of sorts, or the reflection of sunlight against the clearest crystal waters of a pond, and he couldn't tear his gaze away; bright and nearly blinding.

But then, acknowledging this, he shut his eyes tight and jerk-shook his head hard till he got dizzy, before he stopped to rub his spinning mind.

Leonardo watched as his hotheaded brother palmed his face, trying to sooth the dizziness, and wondered what was wrong. Donatello, however, aware of Raphael's daze, but thinking it was merely a nauseated upheaval after his dip earlier, quietly stepped under the comforting heat of the lamp and picked the child into his arms. Somehow, he still couldn't get over how light-weighted she was.

Dew did not struggle but she did squirm a bit, as if arguing against the hold. Her blue eyes stared at the dark skinned turtle, as if pleading him a silent request. Raphael, unsure what she wanted but guessing she didn't want to be in Don's grasp, he glanced at his brother for a moment before reaching out to her, transferring the child from his brothers hold and into his own.

The little blonde child smiled wide and snuggled into the warmth of his body, her arms wrapped tight around his neck as she buried her face into his throat. Her hair prickled against his skin, but he didn't mind. He merely smiled and hugged her closer, smoothing down her hair.

She realized he smelled strange, of dirt and grass and- something she didn't recognize. It was probably a thing from the outside world, where she wasn't allowed to go, and somehow, she was curious to discover what it could be.

She had always wanted to go to the garage and check out all the big, fancy toys her two cranky brothers liked to play with, but every time she came into the doorway, one of them would lead her away, or Mikey would pick her up and take her back to the den to watch cartoons. The one time she managed to sneak during the night and get to the garage, Leo found her and took her back to the bedroom.

She was annoyed; how did they know she was there? She was sure to be as quiet as a mouse, she just didn't get it.

She didn't mind being tucked into bed early sometimes; she liked waking up early, she was just a little miffed they wouldn't let her in onto the neat stuff. That big, red, shiny two-wheeler Raphie-bro liked to take apart looked really cool, she just wanted to watch him work.

Raph yawned again, his mighty maw spread wide as his peal white fangs glinted against the bright lights once more.

Leo rolled onto his plastron and watched the hothead and the child for a moment, indulging in the laziness, and with a smile he contemplated the expression Mike often called their brother: Mr. Gnarly Shark-teeth.

Dew, apparently unafraid of the sharp fangs, grinned curiously and reached out to them, surprising the droopy turtle in the process. Raphael cawed for a moment, started by her tiny hands keeping his jaw wide open, like Don would keep the hood of the battle shell propped up, and started fingering the tips of his fangs, as if checking how sharp they really were.

"Now, now, you curious little mouse; you know better than to mess with the big cranky lion," Don jibbed, amused, he picked the child from his brother's hold and back into his own once more, allowing Raphael to shut his jagged-maw and swallow.

Dew pouted, as if complaining the disruption of her exploration of her cranky brother's maw.

"Curious little critter, aint she." Raph mumbled with an amused smile.

Leonardo chuckled, more so at Dew's pout at Donatello than Raphael's chuckle. "Indeed she is." He mumbled, more to himself than his brothers.

No more than a second later, Michelangelo loudly burst into the lair announcing his arrival, in what his brothers liked to call the sugar-rush-induced berserk mode.

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

"You took Mikey to _where_?" Raphael said aloud at April, bewildered by what he had just been told.

He was snuggled between Leo and Don on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, to keep himself warm since all three had been basking under the sunlamp; all three were pretty warm-skinned. He nursed a cup of lime-tea in his hands, just for the sake of having a healthy drink. There was no risk of having a killer cold after his dip in the pool after all that time being thoroughly baked under the heat lamp, but he preferred not to get sick at all.

"And why would you something like that?" he then mumbled, befuddled at their adoptive human sister's course of action.

He was glad April didn't seem upset at him berating her earlier that morning, she always seemed like a 'forgive and forget' type of girl, (unless they're pushing it, then they'd really be sorry!) and seemed to pretend the misunderstanding had never taken place. It partly made him feel awful guilty, but somewhat found comfort she was willing to just pretend it didn't happen.

"To the grand opening of a new comic shop," she repeated, smiling lightly as she unwrapped the scarf from around her neck. She was slightly flustered from the heat. She had apparently over-dressed and ended up just a bit hot despite the chilly weather outside.

"Why? You got a death wish?" Raph blinked, unbelieving.

The redheaded woman quirked a slightly annoyed brow, then smiled, "No," she somewhat sang, "it's just that your friend, Steve, called me earlier this week, and told me he was attending the opening ceremony, so he could offer some cover if needed." She explained simply, "He also said there was a discount on some special limited-prints available, and Mike was sure to be interested on getting one or two before they run out of stock." She replied. "Something about a collector's edition must have, and mint or something." She shrugged, clueless.

She flicked a strand of hair from over her brow, and then glanced over her shoulder, as if expecting the turtle in question to leap into the picture. The orange masked turtle had soon, after his excited arrival, vanished into his room with his loaded treasure of comics, and little Dew, too bashful to be close to the human, decided to follow after him.

When no enthusiastic turtle in orange appeared, April glanced back at the three turtles on the opposite couch before her, and flashed a wide smile. She had to admit to herself, they actually looked pretty cute all snuggled up besides each other like that, especially Raph in the middle.

In hope to cover up her obvious amusement, when Raph sent her a suspicious glance, she continued, "And since it's on the other side of the Bronx, with Casey not in town for another week, I didn't want to drag all four of you on such an exhausting trip." She shrugged again.

She kicked off her shoes then crossed her legs, reached to her now bare foot and massaged her aching toes.

When the other three still gave no comment and merely stared at her, she added, "In all honesty, I got tired by the third hour while Mike wasn't even breaking sweat." She shook her head, highly amused by the turtle's stamina, despite his hyperactive excitement around the cascades of meticulously sorted comic books, of multiple genre and content. "I'm just glad he decided to have had enough for one day, I don't think I've walked this much since my high school shopping-spree years." She weakly laughed.

Raphael fingered the cup in his hands for a moment longer, waiting for someone to start a conversation, but it didn't look like anyone had anything to say. He half wanted to just get up and do some rounds in the dojo, but was also curious to what issues Mike had bought. Dew seemed rather interested in the colorful books as well.

"Well, since none of you guys are feeling talkative today, I take it something's wrong?" April asked, a concerned smile on her face, "You guys aren't usually this quiet." She commented.

The trio eyed each other, a bit startled and perhaps sheepish as well.

"We just- have a lot in mind, April." Don began with a casual smile, "It's nothing to worry about, really."

"Are you sure?" she insisted, sisterly concerned.

"We're sure." Leo confirmed.

Another moment of awkward silence passed before Raphael pushed off the couch, and announced how he was going to go check on Mike in case their little brother gave himself a heartattack from being overexcited.

In truth, Raphael had an uncomfortable feeling, and he was sure it wasn't the cold prickling his snout.

He hated forewarnings, usually they end up worse than he'd expect…

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Sorry if this chapter is shorter than usual, it's as far as I've managed to write and for some reason got a block-bunny in the way, writing the next chapter isn't a problem, it's getting the filler scenes in between the main plot that's a bit troublesome. Like always, critique welcomed.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine:

--

She watched in fascination as the man in tight white garbs, easily flew across the starlit sky as if he were a bird, grabbed the big thingamabob with the whirring noise, and spun it around a few times before sending it flying towards the moon. It went 'Boom!' in pretty orange, red and yellow clouds with big bold red text to emphasize the loud explosion.

"You're not getting away this time, Malignus! Your rein of terror ends here!" her brother said in a funny voice, seeing he had gently perched his chin on the top of her head where they cuddled, flipped the page and then pointed to a skinny bug-like man-creature, who ran towards a big spider net thing in the wall.

"Ha! You won't get me that easily, Sentry! You may have destroyed my Cyber whirl-bot, but you haven't defeated me yet!" the red bug laughed; or Mike did, since he was reading the speech bubbles for her. "Eat this!" the bug man shouted in big red text as he threw an apple-like object towards the man in white garbs.

Dew thought that this Malignus fellow has some really long arms, kinda like daddy long legs. Would that make him daddy long arms instead?

Sentry stopped and gasped, his face shocked and surprised at the sight of the apple thing. The apple object fell to the floor with a loud 'clank!' noise, and then split in half from the harsh impact against the hard concrete floor, before a glowing purple stone started pulsating within.

The page wriggled with the effects of some sort of water-like ripples made the picture frames squiggly and funny looking. As the frames danced with what her brother explained as ultra sonic waves, the man in white garbs clutched his head and bent backwards with a loud cry, before he slowly lowered himself to the floor, then collapsed to his knees and held his head tighter, groaning as more pain hurt his head.

"I- I can't move!" Sentry gasped, groaned again and then fell to the floor, unmoving.

A part of her wondered why these books had so many colors, or why they had to state obvious things like the sound effects- some of them sounded real silly for some reason. She didn't mind, she loved the pretty colors, but there were just so many of them, she didn't know what she was supposed to look at exactly. It was exciting, albeit confusing.

"Interrupting transmission, mama bear," a voice that wasn't Mike called from afar, and she turned from the pretty book to the doorway. There stood Raphael, he didn't have his gear on and looked a little tired, but otherwise he was okay. She grinned at him in greeting, but he didn't seem to notice her. "can I have a word with you?" he said to Mike, then sent her a strange look.

Mike blinked at his brother, a bit taken back by the approach. "Um, sure, what do you wanna talk about?" he smiled in that charming fashion.

Raph stared for a moment before continuing, "I mean just you and me, Mike." He stated, and added nothing more.

"It's not like she'd be telling anybody." The orange masked sibling argued.

"Well, regardless, I really don't want her to hear it." Raphael grumped, not really angry.

Dew wasn't sure what to do after that, because her two brothers muttered at each other and she couldn't understand what they were saying. A moment passed before Mike goaded her, gently apologizing for the interruption of their cuddle time, he asked her to go play with Donny till he and Raph were done with whatever it was his brother wanted.

Confused, but willing to comply she nodded and left the room, and they watched her till she shut the door after she left.

A part of her felt upset, though she couldn't quite understand why.

Sure the comic was pretty and the colors were real nifty, and she was really comfy in Mike's lap and warm and such, and she also kinda wanted to know what happened after Sentry fell down, but that wasn't it.

It was this… not-so-nice feeling in her chest again, it hurt, and she couldn't explain it. Disregarding the discomfort, she drew in a deep breath and sighed, before she made her way to the den, where she remembered Leo and Don were at.

As she made her way towards the den, she wasn't too comfortable being there with that pale skinned person they called April, her bright skin and head-fur looked weird. She, herself, had funny head-fur that Raphie called blonde, but hers looked a bit greener in some spots, it didn't look like it was a different color than the rest of her body like the human.

But then again, she never understood why she had head-fur while her brothers didn't.

Her grandpa had grey body fur, but her brothers had no hair at all, and yet these humans had hair only on their heads; why was that?

She stopped half way down the ward, and settled on her tail with her shell against the wall, thinking back at what Raph and Mike wanted to talk about. She wondered if maybe Raphie was mad at her and wanted to talk to Mikey about it? She didn't think that was it, she was sure she was good today, so she couldn't think of anything that would have made Raphie bro mad at her.

But then abruptly it happened again; her body stung with sharp buzzing pain.

She winced and curled over herself for a moment, hugging her knees tight, waiting for the pain to pass just as it had done the last time. When the buzzing stopped, she whimpered a bit as the stinging sensation prickled uncomfortably throughout her body, and her fingertips hurt as if she had stubbed them at something sharp; it hurt to move them.

Looking at her hands, she felt her eyes widen as she saw them go all fuzzy again- like when her grandpa turned off the television or changed the channels, except that this lasted longer. A flickering motion, she remembered Donny bro saying. She was scared, she didn't like this feeling; she wanted to go hug Raphie again, he made things better last time, but… he said he wanted to talk to Mikey bro, alone, and he didn't want her there, would he be mad at her if she went back? He didn't look too happy, and she wasn't too sure she wanted to make him mad.

Then, there was some noise distracting her from her tingly fingers.

She glanced at the direction of the noise, only to spot the feline who stood a distance away, eyeing her with its creepy bright yellow-green eyes. Dew noticed that- it could have just been her, but she could have sworn the kitty's eyes were yellow, but sometimes they turned green, it was very weird and it really scared her. She didn't like it when they were green, somehow they looked real scary, and she didn't like it at all!

But then the cat came _closer_. With a silent whine she pushed to her feet and bolted off as far as she could, momentarily forgetting all about the ache tingling her fingers and toes.

She thought she was heading towards the den, but her feet led her elsewhere. It didn't matter where she went, as long as the kitty was out of the way, she felt better and much safer; she never could understand why Mikey bro liked the creepy thing.

But then her body hurt in a burst of raw stabbing ache again, and while she ran in a sudden shock, she tripped and fell to the floor, and her snout hit the floor so hard she mutely screamed as she felt a horrible stab slam against her head.

But there were no echoes to be heard. There was no audible indication of pain or agony, her screams went unheard.

She cried and whimpered, clutching her face in agony. The pain buzzing through her face put her eyes under uncomfortable and sizzling heat, tears welled and dribbled down her face as she cried. The feel of her heartbeats thudding violently against her snout and front teeth, pulsating loudly in a deafening beat against her ears, and even against her chest, it all hurt horribly.

To make things worse, the return of the painful sharp tingles on her fingers and toes was starting to really upset her.

What was going on? Why did it have to hurt so much?

She felt terrified, everything hurt, and she felt so alone.

"Dew?" a voice suddenly called, followed by the loud mewing of the cat and hasty footsteps on the floor, "Dew! Sweetie, are you alright?" Leo bro appeared nearly out of nowhere, and scooped her into his arms into a tight comforting embrace. His fingers gingerly touched her sore snout to inspect her injury, and she winced and sharply jerked back in pain- it hurt!

He hugged her closer and tighter, squeezing her just a bit as he smoothed down her hair, a gentle hand brushed away the tears that still latched onto her cheeks. With a gentle kiss to her temple, he shushed her and started to move, taking her back towards the ward of which he came. "You'll be alright, sweetie, calm down, it is okay now." He hugged her tightly again, stroked her hair and cuddled her in his arms.

"Leo? What- ?" another voice came, it sounded like Donny bro.

"I'm not sure," Leonardo replied, "But- I think Klunk freaked her out again; she ran off, tripped and bruised her snout." He explained, and then stroked down her hair again, a thumb tenderly pressed to her temple and cheeks, softly he brushed away the renewed tears.

She wasn't sure if it was just the cat, she wanted to tell him that her body hurt cause of the strange buzzing, this strange pain that kept biting her fingertips, but now her snout hurt too much she couldn't stop crying, and her vision was all blurry, but also she was upset because she knew no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to _say_ anything, simply because she couldn't _talk_.

Why _couldn't_ she talk? It was something that bothered her, but it just made no sense why she couldn't talk like everyone else. Donny bro had once told her that her 'voice box' was fine, and she should have been able to talk like the rest of them, so why _couldn't_ she?

Was she not trying hard enough, or was there just- something wrong with her?

She didn't know, and the thumping of her heartbeats against her ears wasn't helping.

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

Cuddling the small body close, Leo listened to her breathing against his throat, her head resting on his shoulder.

She had whimpered and fought back as Don tried to nurse her split lip, unusual for someone so usually well behaved and quiet to fuss a storm, it almost put her in the same level of annoyance as Raph on a bad day after a fight with some punks.

But Leo knew not to get mad at her, she was hurt and for some reason she was also emotionally upset, not to mention that her unintended nosedive probably hurt her front teeth; Don assumed she would lose her apatite for a few days cause their nerves were hurt, but at least they weren't fractured or broken.

She was so small and precious, and seeing her crying her eyes out with having to endure so much pain almost tore his heart out; literally! The poor child ended up crying herself to sleep.

And yet, there always seemed to be something amiss about her that he couldn't pinpoint.

Latching onto his bandanna tails where she curled in the comfort of a snuggly blanket, Leo refused to put her to bed and figured it would be better if she woke up to find him there, because he thought it would relieve her to know she wasn't alone.

But the thought remained; there was something a miss about her, and he just couldn't figure out what it was.

Physically she hadn't changed, emotionally she seemed- unstable? It was almost as if there was something bothering her, but she didn't share it for some reason. He thought that if she wanted to tell them something, then she was a smart girl, she'd figure out a way to get the point across, right?

One of the obvious things was her dislike of Klunk. The tabby just wanted to be friends, but she just didn't like him, not since he scratched her hand on their first meeting. First impressions do count for something, especially for children.

He had to admit, she had been awful quiet the past few days as well. How long had it been since she came to the lair? About two weeks? Probably less, but more than ten days, he was sure.

"Hey," came the soft greeting, and the hotheaded sibling nestled slowly into the free space besides the leader, "she okay?" he inquired, a slight furrow knit hit brows across that otherwise placid facial.

"She's fine. Don thinks her lip should heal in another day or two." He simply replied.

Raphael nodded, satisfied with the answer for the moment, and then leaned back casually against the couch's backrest; he stared at the television screen where their father watched his soaps.

Leo merely joined his father at the den, because he wanted a comfortable position to sit and keep Dew comfy in his arms, and also to have enough noise around him to keep his mind off things. The soaps seemed like a good choice of background music while he meditated, a better choice than Mike's videogame racket, he was sure.

But of course, the commercial break cut through the transmission and their father huffed, patiently waiting for the show to return. Cody and Donna had finally settled their differences, and he wanted to know if they were going to stick to their words this time, or have their distrust rip them apart again!

"I was just thinking," Raphael murmured, eyes fixed to the colorfully commercial-rotating screen, "maybe it would be a good experience to go to the farmhouse?" he somewhat reluctantly, and hesitantly, glanced at his brother; a suggestion.

Leonardo glanced at him after a commercial ended, smiling rather oddly, "Sure, sounds like a plan." He grinned.

The forest green brother blinked, frowned a bit and eyed his brother a bit more confidently, "Funny, with the Foot and those freakazoids running amok, I thought you'd say no." he commented.

"Truth be told, the Foot had been rather inactive as they as well had been occupied with the mutants running around, and the Outbreak virus seems to have taken a curb for now," he said at first, "I think the temporarily gas Don and Leatherhead spread across the sewers is doing some effect, for the time being. Its not stopping them, but it's making them not want to come out to the surface, so it's somewhat affective." He concluded, and then glanced at the child sleeping in his arms, "I think Dew could use a little sunshine and fresh air, she'd never been out of the lair before." He stroked her head.

Raphael did not reply and merely nodded, though his brother could tell there was a hint of guilt that crept across Raph's features. The hothead had been informed about Dew and Klunk's mishap earlier, one part on him wanted to blame the cat, but the other part felt guilty for asking her out of the room in the first place. If he didn't insist on her leaving the room, if he had listened to Mike and just let her stay, she wouldn't have come across Klunk, and the cat wouldn't have unintentionally freaked her out.

If she had a voice, he would have heard her cry, and he would have come running.

He would never admit it, but he knew if she was in danger and called, he would have dropped everything he was doing to come to her aid. A part of him felt odd at the thought, but the other part of him agreed with the first; he really cared about her, but he just- didn't know why he kept avoiding her. He didn't want her to get hurt, yet he didn't want to get attached, and only after she got hurt did he realize he had done those already.

Earlier when he had to talk to Mike, he had to confess to his brother, the same thing he had accidentally blurted to Leo that earlier night. He felt like Dew was his child, but he was rejecting her, he felt bad about her coming out the way she did, mute and smaller than she should have been, and somehow he felt like it was his fault.

He had no idea _why_ he had to tell Mike; hell! He thought Mike would laugh his ass off at him for even spouting such nonsense, but- he didn't, not quite. Sure Mike chuckled a bit and teased him about it, but then simply told him that he was thinking too much about it. Mike didn't mind being called a mommy, (well, just as long as Raph didn't make him _dress_ as one!) cause he enjoyed pampering the little girl.

'_Dude, I read about this in books, I'm not dumb._' Mike softly told him back then, arms crossed with a concerned smile, '_Parents always feel intimidated when they have their first baby, so it's only natural you feel this way. Besides, I kinda like to think that since we're turtles, normally wild females just lay the eggs and swim away, they don't do any actual parenting, so they miss out on the awesome part of seeing their kid grow._' He shrugged.

When the hothead became quiet and didn't reply, he continued, '_Or maybe you really want to be a daddy, but you're scared?_' he hinted, and when the bigger turtle snapped his head at the younger turtle in attention, looking a bit like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, the smaller turtle grinned wider, '_Trust me, I talked to sensei, being a dad aint easy; you're not alone in this, Raph._' he added with a comforting smile.

'_Well you sure act like it is,_' the hothead muttered.

'_Because I'm not trying to be her parent, I'm just being her big, loveable and cuddly brother._' He flashed a huge grin, '_So just be yourself, Raphie boy, trust me, there is nothing to it._' He encouraged.

Raphael, at the time, felt absolutely ridiculous; did he just receive parental comforting from his **_baby_**_ brother?_ Mike was surly going to taunt him and blackmail him about it for the rest of his life!

"Raph?" Leonardo's voice called, a little wary, "Hey, you alright?" he asked, a brow slightly arched in an expression of curiosity and mild concern, "You just zoned out on me back there."

With a small grunt, the hothead palmed his face, "Uh… yeah, sorry; just got thinking." He rubbed his temple for a moment, before looking back at the child in his brother's arms.

Dew was so small, so frail, almost like a literal dewdrop, and that made Raphael wonder if she was going to grow up to be the smallest of them all.

As far as he knew, female turtles are often larger than males, but Dew seemed so tiny compared to their size when they were her age. He thought that, when older, being tiny would give her an advantage if she got stuck in a battle, but the stitch on her lower lip reminded him- she wasn't a teen, she was barely a preteen, she wasn't meant for this life style, she was much too fragile.

He didn't want such a petite rosebud to be marred by bloodstains, not if there was something he could about it.

"I might regret saying this," he said, low and glum, "but a part of me wishes Mikey never used that crystal." He confessed. He noticed Leo's fingers twitch and curl tighter around the blanket wrapped around the child, and Raphael knew he probably stepped on his bothers protective nature.

But he had to say it, he knew it was probably something better not spoken, but he just **had** to say it, cause he was blunt and insensitive like that…

"What is done is done, my sons." Splinter interrupted; his soaps were interrupted by the weather report, so he paid them more attention. "Little Dewdrop is with us right now, for whatever reason she came to be does not matter, for she is family." He eyed Raphael, a firm but parental look in his eyes, "I understand your hesitation, Raphael, but Michelangelo never would have foreseen this event when he had taken that crystal, so you can not blame him for bringing her to our family."

"I never said it was his fault, sensei." Raphael grunted, strangely feeling his own reply sounded rather rude, so he bowed his head a bit in a silent apology, "I just- I'm sorry sensei, but I feel that she could have been better off if she wasn't here; she's small and helpless and can't even _talk!_ When if she got in trouble? What if she got hurt? She can't even cry for help." He confessed guiltily, and then he sighed heavily, his facials betrayed the need to keep his emotions hidden, "And… it's all because of me."

"Raphael," the gentle fatherly tone spoke, a tender hand cupped his son's face and raised the chin to look at him, "It is not your fault, or anyone's fault, that Dewdrop had come to be the way she had. Donatello had assured me that there is a chance she could learn to speak, but when and how is yet to be determined." His thumb brushed his son's cheek, "You need to understand that I fully understand your worries," he lightly smiled, somewhat teasing, "it is an exciting yet intimidating experience to be a parent, but I am sure you and Michelangelo would care for her welfare."

Raphael blinked at first, then his brows arched high and his eyes widened, "Er- please don't tell me you're into this joke about me and Mike being her parents, too, sensei." He wrinkled his snout, not amused.

The elder ninja master chuckled and withdrew his hand back onto his cane, "I would like to think of her as my granddaughter, since I feel I can not fully dedicate myself to be her father," his smile widened, a knowing glint in his eyes, "Michelangelo seems to have taken her as a little sister, but he tends to mother her much to the point of spoiling her with attention, and yet you tend to aid curb his affection when it only tends to spoil her further, like a watchful father should." he then glanced at the sleeping bundle in the arms of Leonardo, "and among the four of you, Raphael, you seem the most passionate regarding her welfare."

Leonardo smothered a grin. The fact that Raphael's face visibly changed color under that mask, before the hothead buried his face into his hands with a loud grumbling growl, was not lost to the leader. The hot head looked so flustered, he found it- kind of amusing.

Splinter chuckled, "There is nothing more admirable than the love of a parent to their child. Do not be embarrassed by your feelings, Raphael, for these feelings ought to be treasured, because they are the most sincere expressions of love people could ever grant each other."

With a evidently embarrassed yet complacent nod, Raphael dare not look at his father; he just felt so inane, (though strangely in a good way,) he just didn't have the courage to look at anyone in the eye yet. "I understand." He softly murmured.

"Ah! My soaps are back on." The elderly rat said cheerfully and hurried back to his seat, relaxed and continued to watch the commercial break message end before his show continued.

Leonardo, highly amused, glanced at the peacefully sleeping child, still latching to his bandanna tails, yet not as tightly as before, and with a mellow smile he caressed her cheek, only barely paying attention to the one marring injury on her bottom lip.

"Seriously," Raph barely whispered, "I just wish I had the brains to remember giving her a voice." He muttered, and annoyed look on his face.

The leader sighed, "Raph, honestly, if my hands weren't full right now, I'd so smack you backside the head." He grumped in a brotherly fashion, "Stop grudging and kicking yourself about it, I'm sure she'll be fine. With time we can teach her sign language, talking isn't going to be an issue."

"Oh yeah? What if she was tied up in some deep dingy hole with no way out? How the hell is she supposed to make it out on her own if she cant even scream?" his brother argues, and Leonardo could not help but catch glimpse of a frightened child in depth of his brother's eyes. "Physically she's too small to start learning ninjutsu, and I don't think she's ready for it mentally, and either way she'll probably need some training to put her into shape before she even starts with the basics." The temperamental turtle argued.

"She's not made of glass, Raph." Leo complained.

"She looks like she is to me." His brother inwardly growled as he shot back.

Leo blinked at the come back, and Raph stiffened in a heartbeat; he did not mean to sound so tense. The brothers stared at each other for only a few seconds, uncomfortable.

Leo, after a moment of clearing his thoughts, quirked a small smile, "You really do act like her father…" he commented.

All he got in reply was a snort and an annoyed scowl. The hothead huffed, scooted to the far side of the couch and crossed his arms, ankle crossed over his knee, he sank back into the recliner and sourly glared at the shiny screen; denial.

The leader chuckled, and then looked back at the sleeping girl.

She was in good hands and a loving family, regardless of the situation, he knew Raphael will watch over her like a hawk; in a good way.

Yes; come what may, they will protect her for she is a part of their family now, and she's here to stay.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Yeesh… about time I updated this beast. So sorry for the long wait, I won't go into the boring details. Feedback would be appreciated, as constructive critique is welcomed as well.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten:

--

"Tell me again why we're doing this?" Donatello grumped as he tried to type on the keyboard.

He had one arm outstretched while he tried to take a sip from the paper cup with the other, needing the bitter hot taste of caffeine soothingly sliding across his tongue and dry mouth, and warming his thirsty throat before kicking his sleepy system into gear, but without dropping the beverage as the brother who tried to half-mindedly dress him into warm clothes.

"Because I said so." Leo grumped like an irritated mother, and then tugged the jacket onto Don's shoulders, "And I don't care how much work you want done, Donny, it's only for a few hours and you seriously need the time off-- and _goddamnit__!_ Shut that damn screen already!" he yelled, aggravated.

"No! The results aren't out yet and I need them printed before I turn the computer off, damn it!" the cranky olive green turtle growled back like a madly provoked beast. "I'll turn it off when they're **done**, and not _before_, **understand?**" He crossly shouted.

He **hated** it when the leader tried to take over _his_ turf- this was his lab! No way in seventh hell was he going to let Leo boot him out of his personal sanctuary, damn it! Over his dead rotting worm-infested body! Not if he had something to say about it!

Leo, like a baby deer at a speeding truck's headlights, froze in his tracks for a few seconds, stupidly blinking at the irritated sleep-deprived puffy red eyes that glared back at him; Leonardo thought if looks could kill, then he should have died a few times now. After a moment to gather his thoughts, the leader cautiously tugged the sleeve cuff and buttoned it, now pleased that it was neatly in place.

He pushed away from his silently fuming brother, "Fine, gees, no need to get so snappy." He nervously edged back to adjust his brother's collar sleeve, "I just thought a little family trip would lighten your mood." A low snarl was the first reply he received.

"I'm in Raph mode, don't provoke me, or I _swear_ to whatever deity is out there Leo, I **will** bite you! And I guarantee you will _not_ like it!" The purple masked kin spitefully hissed at the screen, set aside the paper cup to angrily and personally adjust his jacket, and then violently hit the enter key, announcing the printer's whirring as it came to life. "Now get out of my lab, before I personally boot you." He warned, not looking back at his wary brother.

Without a second thought Leo slinked out of the lab, leaving the door ajar. He leaned against the wall and breathed out a sigh of relief, heart beating wildly against his chest. He seriously thought Don was going to lob his head off back there! Holy! Since when was the geek such a spitfire menace? Since when was the pacifist such a hot headed stick of dynamite? He made Raph's temper look like a popsicle at the top of an iceberg.

Distracted, heartbeats no longer deafening his ears, he spotted his orange masked brother happily skip past him with a wide grin, seemingly not acknowledging him there looking pale as a ghost, and hurried towards the kitchen where everyone waited.

With a huff the leader went to check if everyone was ready. He had yet to get dressed so he was the last to get prepared for their little trek. He drew in a deep breath to calm himself, no need to freak everyone if they saw his messed appearance.

Once in the kitchen, he spied Mike tying a frilly long ribbon of sorts on Dew's hair, neatly pulling it back into a cute ponytail. Her hair wasn't short enough to be called a pigtail, and not long enough to be considered a horsetail, so their little brother decided a ponytail sounded cuter.

Thankfully, though amazingly enough, Dew's bruised lip had healed overnight. By morning the cut was gone and the stitches came off, and though there was the tiniest indication that her lip was injured, the marring sign was slowly fading, much to Michelangelo's relief.

At the opposite side of the table Raphael and Splinter eyed a brochure April had gotten them earlier, and the two were casually discussing the plan for tonight. If they were going to Coney Island after closing time to give Dew some play time in a real park, then they had to be ready for the security and what not.

Amusingly enough, Casey had guaranteed that he had an acquaintance who worked at the park, (who owed him something,) and he himself could work there for the night to give them backup in case they had to split, and offer them cover so Dew could experience what it's like to be out doors in a real park for the first time.

Casey hadn't met Dew yet, but April had informed him of the shy little girl, and how she seemed uncomfortable around her. Naturally, the man was more amused at the fact Raph was declared the mommy, (unaware of the outburst the hothead had given the redhead at the time,) than the fact his green family had a baby girl among their ranks.

Leonardo walked into the kitchen and towards his brother and father, but when Mike announced he was done with the ribbon, Leo found his eyes widening at the sight of Dew laden with too many fluffy clothes to protect her from the nippy weather, she looked adorably humorous. Heck! All he could see of her now was the top of her head half way down her snout, the rest of her face was covered with the scarf and the jacket's double layered collar.

"Uhh, Mikey?" Leo began, stifling a laugh, "She **is** supposed to be able to breath under all those clothes, right?" he asked, somewhat entertained.

His youngest blinked, glanced at the child as she tugged a bit at the uncomfortable scarf prickling her snout, and then rubbed the back of his neck, "Um, you think I over did it?" he sheepishly smiled.

"Just a smidge," Raph teased with a mild smile, "But seriously, Mikey? She practically looks like a mini Eskimo." He laughed.

In agreement to the overbearing and excessive clothes, Dew untied the scarf and threw it off with a huff, inhaling a large amount of air before exhaling in relief, grateful for some cool air in her lungs. After that, she started fiddling with the collar to ease the heat on her neck. It was too stuffy, she felt like she was growing hotter inside, and it was very uncomfortable.

Brochure set aside, Raph bemusedly rounded the table to kneel down to her level, and then proceeded to tug the zipper to her jacket, barely blinking as he practically felt her body heat whoosh from its confined article of clothes and brush against his face. But what made him blink was the fact she wore a jeans overall under that jacket.

"Oh for _crying out loud!_" he scowled, hastily helping the child out of her heavy piece of cloth, "Are you trying to cook her alive, Mikey? She would have suffocated under all of that!" he exclaimed angrily, and bit back a growl and a few choice words, when he saw a single droplet of sweat dribble down the girl's throat. "She's keeping the overall, but the jacket stays off."

"But Raph, it's cold out there," Mike argued in a child like voice, "what if she caught a cold?"

"She wont." He grumped, peeling the jacket off, careful not to tug at her hair, "You're dressing her as if she's about to risk her very life through a snowstorm, and it's not even snowing!" the hothead shot his brother a scolding look, not amused, then helped the child out of the thick slacks since the overall kept her legs warm enough.

Mentally keeping notes to himself, Raphael decided there was no way he was letting Mike dress Dew whenever they decide to go out, his brother was probably going to put her body into overheat and make her sick!

"But honey," the youngest turtle whined in a hurt playful tone, pouting cutely.

Raphael blinked and his left brow twitched, shot a look at Leo when the leader snorted a small laugh, and then slowly craned his neck around to shoot a dirty look at the orange masked sibling, who simply grinned wide in a teasing manner. "I thought Donny was your husband." He darkly muttered.

"Donny's in one of your 'Talk to me and I'll bite your head off,' mode; I know better than to risk my spleen with him now." Mike cupped his hip, looking like a hurt puppy, "I'm not that crazy." He amended.

"Speaking of Donny," Leo interrupted, "may I suggest we just leave him here? He's sleep deprived, cranky, and is pretty much in a state of mind I find more a threat to himself than us." The elder turtle confessed, feeling a little awkward from his previous mishap with the olive green turtle.

Uncomfortable, worried and yet confused what had gotten into their usually peaceful brother. To the leader, it almost seemed like an under-toned beast from the depth of Donatello's mind who behaved so aggressively. It just didn't seem like their brother for some reason; or maybe it was all in his head, or Don was just aggressive when sleep deprived? Leonardo just didn't know anymore.

"Your brother will join us, Leonardo; he had been much too absorbed into his projects as of late, he is driving himself thin to the point of neglecting his own health." Splinter commented, "Perhaps a long break under a peaceful night's sky with family, would help sooth his disoriented mind and keep him at peace with himself, long enough for his body to calm down enough for him to get some rest." He briefly explained.

"Your brother had been rather violently due the exhaustion of mind and body, and I fear stress is starting to take a toll to his temper as well. If we let him have his way any further, he may damage himself beyond our ability to mend." He sighed, parental worry eating at his mind.

The rat master closed his eyes for a moment, and then glanced with a humored fatherly glint as Raphael fussed over Dew's clothes to make sure she was kept warm, but not too warm as to not overheat her fragile body.

"Hello pot," Michelangelo suddenly chimed, a huge bemused grin tugged the corners of his lips.

Raphael paused then blinked, stared at his impish brother, and then at the child he was fussing over. A moment passed before he palmed his face and groaned, and then shot a surprisingly amused scowl at his brother.

"Hello kettle." Raphael replied, apparently humored, and the slightest bit annoyed.

Dew blinked and tilted her head; weren't kettle and pot the same thing?

**. o 0 o 0 o** **.**

She stared wide eyed and mouth a gap at the large, navy blue blanket they called the sky.

There were lots and lots of pretty shiny and sparkly dots up there, and she thought they were the prettiest thing she had ever seen!

"Thanks for covering for us, Casey; I do hope it wouldn't get you in any trouble." Leo said after exiting the van. "Too bad April couldn't come along, though." He added.

"Aint no problem, Leo. April kinda wanted to get some things done at the shop, so it was probably her choice." The black haired man flashed a friendly smile, then glanced at the new arrival. "And this must be Dew, right?" he knelt a bit to greet her, but she quickly and shyly ducked behind Michelangelo's legs, shielding herself from the giant pale man. He laughed, "Man, Ape weren't kidding when she said she was bashful."

"She's just not used to interact with someone who doesn't look like her; even Klunk is having trouble warming her up." Mike chimed, tenderly he petted the girl's head, "Dewdrop, this is Casey and he's family. He is kind of Raph's non-turtle twin, so you shouldn't be afraid of him, okay?" he comforted.

The little blonde peered at the human, eyes blue, wide and curious, and perhaps a tad shy. Unlike the other human with the bright red head fur, this one looked- nicer? She wasn't sure, there was just something more- _more_ about him. If he was Raph-like, then he must be a nice person, right?

"Why do I have to come along, sensei? I rather stay in the van." Donatello sourly grumped for the umpteenth time since they left the lair, which earned him a sharp smack on the backside from his father's cane. Stifling the urge to snap back a blue streak at his father, even the brainy turtle in his irritated state of mind knew better than to push his luck.

"Your behavior is being most infuriating, Donatello." Splinter chided sharply, "You will calm down and clear your mind, you shall join me and your brothers and sister during this outing, and I expect you to be civil." He ordered.

With a set jaw and an evidently irritated sneer, the purple masked turtle controlled his anger the best he could before he replied, "Yes, sensei." He bowed his head, but the bitter tone to his voice did not go unnoticed.

The human blinked at the scene and scooted closer to the red masked turtle, "Let me guess; he ate out of your cereal bowl this morning?" he whispered in hope to lighten the mood, yet he was uneasy at the clear display of anger from the usually calm turtle. The human could practically feel Don's rage buzzing around like an excessively charged ball of lightening waiting to explode.

"Workaholic, sleep deprived, caffeine withdrawal, mother hen Leo," the dark skinned turtle shrugged as he summarized the situation.

"Hey!" came the small complaint from the leader, while Mike's shushed chortle went ignored.

Raphael smiled cheekily at his blue masked kin, but blinked when he felt a soft touch took hold of his hand, soon followed by the small body pressed to his leg, hugging him close. He glanced down at the blonde girl who took his hand, holding it tightly, yet her eyes were worried and probably sad, as she watched their father reprimand their cranky brother.

He wasn't sure what to do, since she probably needed comforting. Don had been giving her strange somber looks when they were in the van, and the hothead found it irritating. At first, he thought it was the bruise on her lip, but it had soon faded and healed just fine. In fact, Leo was glad it was a minor split and she didn't actually bleed, the cut was pretty much gone by now.

Poor Dew would have freaked if she had bled, since they didn't know if the sight of blood was something that might bother her.

Now, he wasn't so sure about his brainy brother. It was almost as if Don was so deep into his own mind, Dew has something to do with the way he's been driving himself through the wall, and whatever it was, he wasn't sharing it with anyone.

Sometimes a guy just doesn't want to share what bothers him, Raphael knew that feeling all too well.

Heck! He did it most of the time. But he also knew that sometimes, it helps to get that massive weight off yours chest, because it actually helps a person breathe a lot easier. Sometimes just talking about it helps at some level, it doesn't necessarily mean there is going to be some sort of answer to it.

At a point, Raphael used to talk to the literal wall, (but then switched to venting to his punching bag while beating it up,) but time after time he just grew frustrated, he wanted to talk to someone who would actually respond. As rarely as it was, Michelangelo had been his deep well, the only person he trusted more than himself to tell his secrets too.

Mike was the proverbial well where Raphael threw his rocks and never heard them hit bottom, and the lack of echo assured them they were in good hands.

Don would have fretted and tried to find a scientific reasoning to make them better, and Leo would have pressured him to try and work it out by force. Master Splinter would have had trouble finding the common ground to even start understanding the problem; he and Raphael may have lived in the same house, but they were on two separate mindsets.

Besides, there were timed in the turtle's life where he just couldn't see himself talking to his father about anything.

And Mike? Mikey would sometimes just listen, lighten the mood and casually either brush the worried off Raphael's shoulder as if they were invisible dust, or somehow just say the right words in the time tone of voice, and the hothead would almost magically feel better- to an extent, anyway. The hothead didn't really know what was it his baby brother had that was such bliss, but he knew he would have brought home a massacre if Mike hadn't had that skill to lull his monsters when they were too riled up to stay confined.

Watching Donatello suffer the same aggravation, Raphael wondered if maybe cornering his brother and risking the chance of swallowing some teeth would be worth it. The olive green turtle was livid and aggravated, simply because he was not allowed to knock himself into a coma by over working himself in his lab. Seriously, his brother needed some time off to clear that steam-pumped head; Don was starting to scare everyone, even Raphael himself.

Slightly squeezing Dew's hand, he smiled down at the absentminded child, before gently tugging her towards the theme park's gates. Leo, Casey and Mike had already gone inside, Donatello and their father were still at the van bickering hotly, so Raphael decided it was a good time to show his little sister around and wait for her to pick one of the games, so Casey could turn its engine on.

And …for some reason, he had this weird _strong_ urge to go on the Ferris-wheel… thought Dew would love the top of the Ferris wheel.

At the thought of his brothers laughing their heads off and embarrassing himself into oblivion by offering the thought to the child, he decided to not do it tonight, but sneak Dew out some other time, just the two of them, and have a little fun away from his brothers.

Leo's fear of heights might cramp that plan, so he knew Leo wouldn't be able to join them; better to exclude him altogether.

Mike's obsession with playing on the wheel's structure, like some sort of oversized rotating makeshift-monkey-bars, would give him a heart attack if Mike did that 'falling off' stunt again.

He swore to himself a long time ago, if he wasn't so horrified out of his mind that day, he would have throttled Mike into mush, if only he didn't feel so relived his brother was fine and in one piece. At that day, Mike probably felt Raphael's distraught at the extreme prank, for he had been questionably well-behaved afterwards, if only for a while, before the mischievous streak found its way back into their lives.

Raphael decided it was better to take Dew up the Ferris wheel next time, when it was just the two of them.

He wanted it to be a night for her to remember, and because he had an image to uphold.

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

She sat on the bench next to her grandfather, happily spooning half-melted ice cream from the cup in her hands.

She wasn't allowed to eat it cold, because her front teeth still ached from her trip a day ago. The ache did tingle a bit, but it didn't deter her from enjoying the soothing cold treat.

In the vast open area before her, she watched as three brothers dashed across the grayed concrete floor in dazzling speed.

Roller skating, the pale white human told her, and from what she saw Raphie bro was the best, because no matter how Leo and Mikey bro tried to catch up to him, the red masked turtle seemed to have this amazing ability for sharp turns, that would send the other two slamming against each other, or against the barriers keeping the pool surrounded.

They did collide into each other a few times when all three fell in one large heap, and the human burst into laughter when they did. Raphie and Mikey seemed to find hitting their heads funny, while Leo bro just groaned and rubbed his forehead. They were too far away, so whatever they were telling each other was something she couldn't hear.

She didn't fully understand it, what was so funny about banging their heads together, didn't that hurt? The child thought that it looked more painful than funny, and Mikey looked like he liked hurting his head. Adults were so weird…

Slowly taking another bite from her ice cream, absently enjoying the creamy taste of milk on her tongue, she glanced at the white and pink swirl in her cup, slowly melting and looking like yoghurt.

A moment passed, and she heard a heavy sigh from a short distance off.

On the next bench a few feet away, Donny sank into the seat with a deep frown and tired red eyes. He roughly rubbed his eyes as if he was sleepy but didn't want to sleep, then yawned and shook his head hard.

She wanted to go sit next to him, but he somehow looked angry and it scared her.

She jumped when Mikey bro suddenly screamed and bolted away from the tangled heap, Raphie laughed like- well, something kinda weird she'd never heard before, it was a new expression and she didn't know how to describe it. Soon Leo laughed and stood up, casually rolling after the two running circles across the skating pool.

Splinter chuckled and pushed off the bench, shook his head and then smiled at her, "Stay with Donatello, Dewdrop, I shall return in a moment. I believe your brothers need a reminder or two regarding their swiftness training." He petted her head with a fatherly smile, and sighed when Mike screamed again, begging for mercy. Raphael had managed to tackle him to the floor and demanded he called for their uncle.

Dew blinked… they had an uncle? She didn't remember meeting any…

She nodded, half worried if Mikey was going to be alright, but sure Raphie wouldn't intentionally hurt him. She watched the rat round the pool to get closer to the ledge where Mike tried to climb off, as Raph latched onto the orange masked turtle's leg, laughing crazily. Leo bro tried to pull them apart, but Raphie wasn't letting go, even the human got pulled into the tangled heap when he tried to separate them.

With a blink, she pushed off the bench and simply headed towards the cranky, olive green turtle. Donatello seemed to tense a bit when she approached, but otherwise didn't move away, but he did scoot enough to offer her some space to sit next to him.

She glanced at the free space, smiled sweetly and coyly climbed into the spot, comfortably nestling by his side. She took another bite from her ice cream, swinging her legs, she watched as Mikey managed to flee the ring and dashed away, but with Raphie hot on his trail. The human laughed, while grandpa and Leo shook their heads.

"… and the dish ran away with the spoon," Donatello suddenly sing-sang with a strange smile.

He chuckled and leaned back against the bench, arms resting on the backrest, before he withdrew a hand and pinched the space between his eyes again. Then he leaned his head back and fell silent, eyeing the starlit sky above, olive green skin bathed by the illuminating night time lights as his smile stretched the slightest bit wider.

Dew stared, mesmerized; she found Donny bro's face at that peaceful moment real pretty.

She glanced back at her ice cream, and on a whim offered him her half melted cup. Perhaps he'd like a taste?

He didn't notice her at first, but when he did his brows arched high, so she smiled and offered again. He stared at her for a moment longer, before a sad smile crossed his features. Silently he took the cup, set it aside, and then with no warning whatsoever, pulled her off the bench and into a firm yet unusually tender embrace.

She blinked, her face half buried into the collar of his jacket. He smelled like coffee.

"Come what may, now and for days to come, but please, Dew, don't you disappear." He murmured in a saddened tone, and his hug tightened.

She didn't move, she merely frowned in confusion, blinked for the umpteenth time that evening, and then tried to hug back as far as he arms allowed. She nuzzled his neck, as much as she could bury her face into it past the fluffy collar, ignoring how it prickled her lip, and then rest her head on his shoulder. If Donny bro was sad and needed a hug, then she'll hug him if it'll make him feel better.

They snuggled for a moment, she closed her eyes and smiled, because it felt so nice. Donny bro felt so warm, his arms around her and his hand on her head, stroking down her hair.

She didn't know why, but she liked it when her brothers stroked down her hair, it made her feel- special somehow.

Opening her eyes she tried to ignore the lock of hair that hung before her eyes, it made her snout itch, so she freed an arm to brush it away. But because of her action, Don eased his hold yet kept her cuddled close.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, and then spied something a distance off from where they sat.

At first she didn't know what it was, but when she did she perked in glee.

It was a toy store!

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: whew… feedback and critique welcomed!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven:

--

Raphael stretched his arms to pop some uncomfortably stiff bones, yawned and then rubbed the back of his somewhat sore neck.

They had been at the park for a very long time, and after a long winded chase after Michelangelo, he had managed to pin him to the floor three out of five times. The red masked turtle declared victory, how he had won the bet which meant his impish brother will not pull a prank on him for a month. Michelangelo obeyed, though the look in his eyes at the time promised immense horrors to the unknowing larger turtle.

Raphael could not possibly fathom the evil plan brewing within Mike's mastermind; he wouldn't know what hit him!

"Man, I'm beat. I think I'm ready for bed now." The hothead groggily murmured as they all made their way back to the gates, and then rubbed his eyes to emphasize how sleepy he was.

"Me too," Michelangelo yawned, his maw open wide. "I could sleep like a rock right now."

"Well, it _is_ past three in the morning." Leonardo informed as he stifled a yawn as well, "And we had been here for a long time, I'm getting kind of tired myself." He confessed tiredly, clearly looking sleepy.

"Aww, you pigeons wanna go beddy by already?" Casey grumped and crossed his arms, looking awake and as alert as ever. "And here I was hoping to go bash some skulls before bed." He complained.

"We have a life, Case; and counting sheep jumping over a fence never sounded so good." Raphael mildly grumped in reply, good naturally teasing his friend. His eyes closed for a drowsy moment, the hothead paused as his head nodded slightly, but then stiffened and slightly jerked up and forced his eyes open, he nervously glanced around, "Hey, where's Dew?" he inquired, looking more awake and a tad bit alarmed.

At that, the rat master smiled, "I believe Dewdrop is with Donatello, Raphael. There is no need to worry." He said evenly, though the glint in his eyes looked teasing.

Michelangelo sniggered, but the hothead was too tired to swat his brother, so he mildly scowled with a sheepish look, "In that case, where is Donny?"

"I think I saw him at the merry-go-round earlier when you tried to shove Mike into the duck pond." Leonardo commented. "I think the ducks weren't very amused you woke them up, though." He added.

"Well they ought to be glad I didn't decide to have them for dinner." Raphael snorted.

"Ya know, you guys do look awful tired," Casey interrupted, "why don't you go to the van, I'll fetch Donny and the squirt and meet you there?" he offered.

"I shall accompany you, Mr. Jones." The elder rat said and already made his way back towards the park.

The four boys who stared at him had the impression that was not a suggestion, but actually a statement the human was not allowed to disagree with.

Casey knew Splinter probably wanted to talk to Don; the olive green turtle seemed to have gotten himself into trouble recently, and his father felt entitled to keep an eye on him, especially since now there was a little girl in the mix. He didn't quite understand what the brainy turtle could have done to earn such treatment, but whatever it was, it must've been real bad.

He didn't remember seeing Splinter so stern, yet so troubled, it was- worrying.

Also, the human wasn't sure what to think of Dewdrop, yet, though.

Sure she was a cute and shy little plump kid, (Mike probably spoiled her rotten, she looked a bit overweight,) but she avoided him as if he was the bogyman and was out to get her.

He wasn't even wearing his night-job gear; he dressed as a janitor to look like a maintenance worker. April had informed him that the child was very shy, and Leo did say she seemed uncomfortable around people who didn't at least look like her, so maybe it was a phase and she'd grow out of it. Or at least, he hoped she would, he kinda hoped to get to know her better since she was part of the family now.

Splinter and Casey went to look for Dew and Donatello, while the others went to check the van, just in case the missing members were already there.

Leonardo figured it was really late, so perhaps Dew had already fallen asleep on Donny by now, and since his brother was sore and tired, they could have bunked in the van while the others weren't looking, but upon checking the vehicle, it turned out that the missing turtles weren't there.

Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo split up to search the park, while Splinter and Casey backtracked to search. The rat master used his keen sense of smell to keep track of his son, while Casey followed quietly for the sake of back up.

Their first stop was the merry go round, but there was no one there.

Dew's scent then drifted off towards a nearby toy shop. The rat master could not hide a smile. He could tell the child was drawn to all the toys and wanted to take some – if not all of them home, and he had hoped Donatello had dealt with the situation accordingly. He wasn't sure if they had brought that much money with them, buying her toys didn't cross the rat's mind and in a sense, he felt guilty.

When his sons were little, he couldn't provide them with the luxuries of toys and entertainment, he barely could save up the money to buy them fresh products and food. As the boys grew, they became more independent and aided him with small errands, from the shadows, that got them paid enough to buy their own things.

Until Ms. O'Neil and Mr. Jones came into their lives, Splinter couldn't think how much harder their struggle would have been, if the humans had not been there to help his sons with their needs.

But now he had a granddaughter, a child he wanted to spoil rotten and watch how his sons would handle it. Being a parent was a lot of responsibility, and the fact Michelangelo was the first one willing to carry the burden encouraged him to test his energetic son's dedication. He wanted to spoil his daughter, but somehow felt that it might be counterproductive.

Disregarding that line of thought for a moment, he wondered since Dewdrop was merely a shy little girl, what type of toy she would feel drawn to. Would she go to the boy toys of bikes and trucks, or something more her age like dolls and kitchen play sets?

Somehow, the mental image of her convincing Michelangelo to play the mother in a frilly pink apron, along with the makeup, and Raphael in a business suite with inch thick glasses and a huge briefcase, in order to play _house_ with her, abruptly made him stop in his tracks…

Oh… _the **horror!**_

Thankfully Mr. Jones was aware of the rat's sudden pause and did not bump into him, "You okay, master Splinter?" he asked, unaware of the mental image that invaded the rat's mind.

"Yes! I am fine." Splinter curtly replied, mentally he calmed himself and tried to bleach the image from his mind. "This way," he said, desperately needing a distraction.

He might need to bring out the sake bottle when they got back, he figured he needed a drink to help him forget.

Yes, sake sounded like a good idea. A very good idea.

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

A soft breeze blew by, and he felt the cool air brush against his cheek.

The soft rustling of the tree leaves above inwardly made him smile, it felt so peaceful, so serene. He didn't want to move.

But Donatello knew he had to get up, hence he forced his heavy eyelids open, and groggily looked at the starlit sky above.

He blinked slowly as a deep yawn threatened to dislodge his jaw, he acknowledged he was so very sleepy, but knew this place was not fit to turn in for the night, he had to move. And yet, he really had no intention whatsoever to even twitch a finger. His location was so snug and warm and so comfortable, he could curl there and sleep till morning, but he knew he had to get up, the others were probably looking for them and were getting worried; he could feel it.

Shifting a tad bit to see if his body would comply, the small being curled in his arms moved. He looked down at the child peacefully asleep in his embrace, and smiled at how adorable she was.

He had to admit, whenever April started fawning over babies and calling them all sorts of baby names and such, he had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes and groaning, and then making a comment about how sentimentally girly it was, to the point if being sappy enough for him to wish he was somewhere else, where there was some sort of danger threatening his life and a man pointing a gun to his head.

But now? He could relate to his human sister's antics, to an extent.

He didn't know how to explain it, but Dew seemed to make the least effort to be cute, yet her general behavior dubbed her as the most adorable creature he and his family had ever laid eyes on. For a moment, he wondered what Raph was thinking when he came up with her idea, and if Mike had anything to do with her being so attractive.

In a sense, he felt like he was stuck in some highly accurate novel where there was a Mary Su in the plot, and he knowledge her for being a Mary Su, yet found himself falling for her anyway, except in this case, she was a neice-daughter-sister complex, and he adored her for being the sweet little angel that she is.

Though he wondered if he'd still think that when she hit her teen years. She would probably look ten times more beautiful.

Boy, his brothers are going to _chew his head off_ if- or _when_ - she would disappear. That thought always haunted him…

Dew shifted and snuggled closer to his chest. He had unzipped his jacket and allowed her to press herself to his plastron as much as she could, then hug her close to keep her warm. He nuzzled her head and settled into the barren cave-like depression in a huge willow tree that graced the far side of the duck pond. There were leaves dangling like a giant curtain just a short distance off, his brothers won't see him here unless they came looking.

Although Don wondered if Mike would catch a cold after the ducks rebelled against him and Raph, he had no intention of moving. He'll just let Leo handle it.

Dew shifted again, and he felt the rough fabric of her doll brush against his skin.

Earlier, in the toy shop, Dew was persistent to take a toy with her. She had her heart dead-set on having a fair-sized Kermit© plushy from the third shelf, and no matter how he tried to convince her that he wasn't supposed to take the toy before playing the game, she refused to budge and leave the shop.

Heck! She surprised him when he tried to tug her out, but she firmly latched onto the nearest pole, that kept the toy stand upright, and was in near tears when he tried to forcefully pluck her off.

Frustrated, the angry voice in the back of his mind told him to just smack her tail a good one and yank her out, but he knew it was just her determination and his bad mood making things worse. He drew in a deep, calming breath, eyed the shop with all the lined up toys once more, and decided he will just have to buy her the damn toy and get out.

He felt like he was stealing, when he picked up the toy from the shelf, since they were required to toss the rings into the hoops in order to win the prizes, but he didn't really feel like playing the dumb game to win, especially since there was no shop keeper to perform for. So going 'what the heck,' he bought the toy for her and left the money where the shopkeeper would find it.

He put a weight on the money bills so any possible breeze wouldn't blow them away.

The little girl refused to let go of her new fluffy friend since.

Now, cuddled in his arms sleeping like a baby, Donatello sensed movement drawing near. He didn't panic, he figured it was one of his brothers, so when Raphael appeared past the curtain of leaves, the hothead heaved a relived sigh when they made eye contact before approaching.

"Hey, we were looking all over for you," the hothead gently chided, blinked and then quirked a brow, "Hey, where'd ya get that doll?"

"She saw it in a toyshop and flat out refused to walk out of there before I buy it for her." He replied, voice near a whisper, barely a grump. "Never thought she could be so stubborn," He commented with a tired laugh, "She apparently got it from her dad." He teased.

Raphael seemed to just stare at them for a moment, seemingly ignoring the comment, before an oddly pleasant smile crossed his features. After a moment of, apparently, treasuring the sigh before him, Raphael informed his brother that they were leaving. Picking the child into his own arms to give the olive green turtle the ability to walk without tripping on his own feet from exhaustion, the three made their way back to the van.

Half way back towards the van, they came across Casey and Splinter, after a silent conversation between the rat master and the brainy turtle, the group made their way back to the gates.

Casey used Raphael's shell-cell to contact Mike and Leo, and soon they reunited at the entrance of the park. So while Casey drove, since Leo and Mike had soon fell asleep during the ride, Raphael and Donatello leaned against each other, while Dew was cuddled in the larger turtle's arms. Splinter dosed off for a bit, but would open his eyes to look at his sons every now and then, before resting in his seat once more.

Casey knew once they got back to the lair, Leo would wake up and help him tuck the others in bed.

But he had to admit, with the way the hothead protectively kept the child close, he did look like he would make a really cool dad.

As someone who lost his father at a young age, Casey smiled, nostalgic. He knew Raph would be a great dad.

**. o 0 o 0 o .**

Next morning, Dew was the first to wake up, soon followed by Leo.

About an hour later, Raphael arose but later exist the lair to go grocery shopping. The hothead only excuse was that there was nothing good enough to eat.

A short while after that Donatello arrived at the kitchen. He groggily stretched his arms high and tall, yawned his mighty jaw wide, before he dropped himself onto the wooden chair, droopily he greeted his little sister and brother from over the scent of green tea.

"G'morning." He half slurred, half gurgled, and then promptly face-planted the table as if he had fell asleep suddenly.

Dew jumped and awkwardly staring at the olive green turtle, while Leonardo gaped in start, but upon hearing his brother softly groan, he chuckled and shook his head, "Did you even get any decent sleep last night, Donny?" he inquired out of concern. The brainy turtle looked better than yesterday, yet the bags under his eyes, despite the mask, made him look a little like he hadn't slept at all.

Don didn't answer verbally at first, he just hummed in confirmation. A yawn threatened to dislodge his jaw and have his lunge expand beyond their capacity, so a little more awake the olive green turtle pushed himself on the chair, yet slouched back and let his head hang back on the backrest. "I slept like a rock," he groaned, "but I woke up feeling sore as if I hadn't slept enough." He sighed.

"Give it time, Don. Your sleep cycle's been more out of whack than Raph's as of late, so it'll need a few mode days of restful sleep before you'll feel energized again." The leader comforted.

Dew glanced from her jigsaw puzzle pieces to the purple marked turtle, half wondering why he looked like he was about to fall off the chair. Absently she turned to her new friend, mister Frog, who she personally sat on the chair next to her. Mister Frog didn't want any tea, but that was okay, she was going to take him to her room to meat mister teddy; not her brother, but the other teddy she got when she came here.

But then she always did wonder how she got here in the first place, she couldn't really remember anything. After a moment, she wondered: Where do babies come from, anyway?

"I guess," Don replied, unintentionally distracting the girl from her thoughts. "Speaking of Raph," Don forced his head up and rubbed his face, trying to stay awake, "I'm surprised he's not up yet."

"Oh he's awake," Leo chuckled, earning a quirked brow from the olive green turtle, "It's just that the fridge was kind of empty and he- indirectly, fussed about Dew not having a proper breakfast, so he went grocery shopping." Leo replied, an amused smile played on his lips as he took a sip from his tea. He glanced at the child who shyly smiled back, and then looked at the tired turtle sitting opposite of him, "Mike, on the other hand, is still sleeping like a rock. He's not up yet." He shrugged a shoulder.

Don stared at the leader for a few seconds before he erupted in a small chuckle, that soon died down cause it was giving him a headache, "And Raph keeps complaining **we** were the ones who started dibbing him as the mom," he snorted and shook his head.

Leo grinned, "Yeah, but I have to admit I kinda like Raph this way. It's not often he'd actually be more open with himself, and us; not this much." He commented, looking a bit wistful. He leaned his elbow on the table and pressed his cheek to his fist, nursing his tea cup with a free hand, "I just wonder how long it would take before he breaks the ice and starts calling her baby names like a real parent." He smiled just a tad bit wider, "Mike is already calling her his little baby." He briefly glanced at the half distracted girl.

Dew glanced up at her brother, aware of being the topic of the conversation, but not fully comprehending the subject of matter itself- or how anyone could break ice; didn't that hurt? Quizzically, she tilted her head and eyed him confusedly.

Leo merely grinned and ruffled her hair in a playful manner, before he smoothed it back. She ducked her head and gave a mute giggle, and then coyly went back to her puzzle, keeping herself happily occupied.

Don's smile wavered just a bit, a sad caress came to his features, but he quickly shook it off before the leader noticed, "Give him time, I'm sure Mr. Teddy would show his true colors soon." He sat upright and stretched his arms, before he pushed off the chair; he needed coffee.

Leo, with a gentle smile, guided Dew with her puzzle pieces. She had solved much of it on her own, but it was one of those boards with over two hundred pieces. They were small and they were a lot, so it took her a while and a lot of concentration to figure out which piece fit where. Every time the leader tried to help her she'd puff her cheeks, as if impersonating a blowfish and huff at him, silently telling him not to hint or help her- she could do this! Leo would chuckle and do as she wanted, but would offer her a hint every now and then, just because he could. She was cute when she was annoyed.

But then the leader blinked, perked his senses and then turned around to watch Donatello stand in front of the coffee machine, listening to it whirr to life. Arms crossed, the olive green turtle murmured a song to himself, a bit distracted.

"Donny?" Leo began, humored yet a little uneasy, "Why are you singing mother-goose rhymes?"

The standing turtle blinked at his brother, frowned and looked generally confused, "What?" he asked.

"You were singing _the cat and the fiddle_," Leo replied, and then leaned his arm on the back of his chair, a growing smile stretched across his lips.

Donatello blinked, sheepishly smiled and then shrugged a shoulder. Seeing the machine still needed a moment to brew his much needed drink, he drew in a deep breath before admitting, "I had a dream last night, about an orange dish with a smiley face drawn in it rolling down the street, with an angry red fork chasing after it. And- it just got stuck in my head." He shrugged.

Dew stared, she remembered that song, Mikey sang it to her once or twice before bed, but she didn't remember the words.

She patted her brother's arm and gestured in confusion, hoping he would understand her request. Leo looked at her for a moment, not sure what she wanted and thinking she probably needed a hint with the puzzle. When he asked her about it she shook her head, and then pointed at Don, who turned to the machine to pour himself a drink.

Leonardo, acknowledging her request by then, asked if she meant the song and she nodded with a hopefully grin. He asked her if she knew the words and she shook her head, so he began the rhyme slowly, so she could remember it.

As bizarrely ridiculous as he felt in the back of his mind, he seriously hoped it wouldn't be something Don would hold against him, in case the brainy turtle needed blackmailing materials.

"It goes like this: _Hey diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon_," he softly sing-sang the nursery rhyme, feeling less childish as Dew grinned, her head moving lightly with the tune.

"_The little dog laughed to see such fun_," Don's mellow voice joined after he took a sip from his hot drink.

"_And the dish ran away with the spoon_." The two brothers sang along, and then burst into laugher.

"_Damn_, thank you, Leo! Now I just realized how silly I looked while singing that." The brainy turtle laughed sheepishly, "And it's stuck in my head now; damn, you got a nice voice." He absently complimented his brother.

Leo stared, a somewhat embarrassed smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, "Er, thanks?"

Don smiled, took a seat, and the two started talking about other nursery rhymed. Jigsaw puzzle forgotten, Dew enjoyed listening to them sing her the tunes.

Donny bro was right, though; Leo bro _did_ have a really pretty voice!

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Constructive critique welcomed.


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